Lily
by Riddle Wraith
Summary: Harry has, using a ritual, unintentionally become the spitting image of his mother, and a woman to boot! When taken to Grimmauld Place, the library calls to her for reasons unknown. Why does she feel so comfortable there? It almost feels like...home.
1. Mother's Little Girl

**Lily**

A Harry Potter fanfiction written by Ignis Lupus

**Rating:**PG-13? For language and some adult situations. Rating will go up for later chapters.

**Pairings:**Harry/Severus

**Warnings:** Gender bending, slight OCness where Sev is involved, Slight Dumbles and Sirius bashing (I don't dislike the characters, but this is how I wrote it), AU obviously, though it sticks to cannon before this, Traumatized!Harry (from the graveyard incident), ect. If I missed anything point it out to me in your comments.

**Summary:** Harry has, using a ritual, accidentally become the spitting image of his mother, and a woman to boot! How will Harry cope with this? How will everyone react?

**A/N:** This is a pre-warning. I have written only one gender-changing story before this and it was never posted because I abandoned it. So my warning is this; this story may get weird, and if you feel at all uncomfortable with it, back away slowly, and leave the page. That's about all I can say. If not, feel free to keep reading though I must also warn you that I have no idea where this story will go, although I will make it make sense, of that I can assure you. As it is, I am flying blind here. Usually when I find a plot bunny just a-dancing around my mind starts to hash out some of the big details before I even put my fingers to the keys. As it is, this time I have no idea where I want this to go other than the vague idea that one, this will definitely be a Snarry, two, it will be something of a tribute to how much and how long Severus loved Lily, which was my first plan for this, and three, and most importantly, Harry _will_ turn back into himself before the story is over and Sev will _hopefully_ (and even I don't know if he will yet, but I want him to) learn to love Harry for his personality and not for how he looks (i.e. like either James or Lily). Now, with that being said and my _major_ ideas out in the open, enjoy, please.

**P.S.** This is un-betaed because I have a bad habit of not having one. If you happen to spot any mistakes that bother you, or plot holes, feel free to inform me. I'm working on finding a beta, and when I do all of my stories will be properly revised. Until then, please be patient with me.

**P.P.S.** I appreciate the reviews and people pointing out plot holes for me, but I warn you that I will not always change the story to the readers whims. I will only change it if I think someone has a really good idea. I wrote this how I wrote it, and I won't change it unless there is something that's really bugging a significant amount of people or me if someone points it out and I don't like it. Harry will still live with the Weasleys, but I concede to changing at least the first name. He loves them and has no reason to dislike them even if he and Ron do fight occasionally. So yes, even when he is practicing DARK MAGIC, he will be staying with a LIGHT MAGIC family, as I believe they would love him no matter what he decides. No, I do not believe it is hypocritical, because why should he give up his surrogate family just because he practices a different branch of magic? He is going to help to open up the Weasley's minds a bit more to his preferred magic. Not only that, but even if some of you may wish it, she is not suddenly going to become friendly with or even live with the Malfoy's or any of their bunch because they _do_ still support Voldemort and that _will not_ change. Voldemort _still_ wants Harry dead, and that will not change either. This story is just about Harry exploring another side of magic that Rowling didn't detail in the books and to anyone, as I'm not talking to the specific person who pointed out these things, I would thank you all _not_ to flame me for how or what I am writing, as I am writing for my own pleasure and _not_ yours. As for the bra thing, I would assume it would have slipped Molly's mind as most likely, being that she hadn't really thought about Harry as being a girl to that extent yet. Hermione could bring it up, I suppose, but Harry wouldn't have thought of it. I will fix that though, as it will have to be taken care of. Thank you for pointing it out.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any of his friends, enemies, or acquaintances. If I did, I would be much happier.

**Ch. 1: Mother's little…girl?**

Harry Potter was not feeling good. Actually, that was an understatement. He was feeling downright awful. He was currently lying on his bed at Number Four Private Drive and his skin, hell, every part of his body, was on fire. It was all he could do not to cry out. In fact, the only thing that didn't hurt was his eyes. It was about half past midnight and he had just finished a ritual he had started at midnight as per the instructions. He had grown tired of all of the stupid people trying to date him for being the boy-who-lived and when he found this ritual, he knew he could change that. It didn't occur to him that to perform this ritual, he might have to know what his heart's desire was. All he knew was that the ritual stated that he would become desirable to whomever _he_ desired. He thought that meant, a choice, but by the pain he was in, he was assuming that was _not_ so. He didn't know what it meant, but he assumed it meant he had done the ritual wrong and now he was in trouble.

Much more trouble than usual, at least. After that fiasco last year with Voldemort coming back using _his_ blood, he was always in danger, but never usually when he was at Private Drive. Now his bones, muscles, skin, scalp, and worst of all, his bits, were burning! He was now biting down on his pillow to keep from crying out, his eyes tightly shut with the pain. Now his eyes hurt too damn it! He teared up under his eyelids, just wanting it all to stop, to go away. The pain was unbearable.

'Please. Just make it stop. Please just let me die.' He thought before the pain made his consciousness fade. When he awoke, it was starting to get lighter outside and everything was blurry. He noticed the pain had stopped and he sighed gratefully. He would never do something so stupid again. He reached beside him to find his glasses, and frowned when they weren't where he usually put them. He opened the small drawer and reached inside, feeling around, and they were still nowhere within reach. A small voice in his mind, most likely the logical part of his mind, told him not to panic. He thought back on what he had done last night. He had set his muggle alarm to wake him at quarter to midnight so he could make sure everything for the ritual was in place, and then when midnight struck, he put on his glasses, took his shirt off, and started the ritual by painting his body with the needed runes. The paint was the blood of a virgin (his own, since he wasn't going to ask for it elsewhere) mixed with tears of sorrow shed by the same source as the blood (it wasn't hard. He had just thought about how he could have saved Cedric and that had done the trick).

After the runes were in place, having not been there before because it was part of the ritual to draw them on one's body, he drew the circle and the pentagram he needed with the same paint, and then drew the runes he needed outside the circle and just inside the points of the star, and he knelt in the circle and began to chant as the book had told him.

"_Blood of the virgin red and untainted, purify my soul._

_Tears of the virgin, sown with sorrow, wash my body, for I am filthy._

_Mixed are ye to purify myself, for I am sullied and unworthy._

_Make me worthy._

_Make me into what I wish, so I may have my heart's desire._

_Make me desired by my heart's desire._

_Change me as the gods see fit, so I may be desired._

_Make my desire want for me as I want for my desire._

_Do what I ask, and take what you must in return._

_I have nothing I want more than my desire._

_Take my blood, flesh, or my soul, but take not what I need to love._

_Take anything but my heart, my beloved._

_Hear my plea, oh great gods above, and grant me my heart's desire so that I may be whole no matter what else is taken from me._

_I beg of you, help me!"_

As the chant ended, he felt fire spread starting from his toes and making its way up his body. He bit down on his lip, and stood, stumbling toward his bed as pain worse than the Cruciatis tore at every nerve in his body. Now he was here, and shaking his head, he reached up and sure enough he was still wearing his glasses. So why was everything so damned blurry? He took them off to look at them and he was shocked. He could see! He could see the glass and the frames clearly. Looking around, he could see everything clearly! So what had the ritual done then? Was that ritual the cause of his improved vision? Did it think to make him more attractive by not having to wear his glasses? He set them on his bedside table and stood, making his way over to his mirror. May as well see if he was disfigured, right? Or at least what the ritual had done to him. When he got to the mirror, he jumped so bad he tripped backward and fell on his bum.

"What…what happened to me?" he asked himself aloud in a voice that was not his own. He had long, dark red hair, fair skin with a small smattering of freckles, and his eyes were the same. His eyes were then drawn to his chest, where he had what he knew he definitely _hadn't_ had last night. Pale, creamy, nice sized breasts stuck out from his chest, topped by pale pink nipples. His eyes widened. If the ritual had done all this to him, had it taken his bits too? He lifted with front of his trousers with some trepidation, terrified of what he would find. When he saw that his manhood, his pride and joy, was gone, he couldn't help but howl. "Nooooooooooo!"

His breathing heavy, he, or rather, she, grabbed her shirt up off the bed, slipping it up over her head. She ignored the owl tapping at her window, as well as the footsteps coming up the stairs, and the telltale crack of apparition outside as she went to study her reflection. She looked like a young version of her mother, parts and all! The only thing that was the same as her old appearance was the lightning bolt scar on her forehead, though it was now covered by silky red bangs. The only thing that took her attention from the mirror was the door to her bedroom finally slamming open after all the locks were undone. She looked back at the door to see her cousin, aunt, and uncle staring dumbstruck at her. Harry was the first to speak, and her voice trembled.

"Aunt Petunia, I think something is wrong with me." She said, visibly shaking. Her uncle was the first one to snap out of it, and with a reddening face, he strode over to his nephew, or rather, niece now, and picked her up roughly by the hair.

"Boy, what kind of hocus pocus have you been up to now? What did you do?" he shouted in her face, causing her to try to shrink away, though she couldn't because of the hold he had on her.

"Uncle, I-" but she was cut off by the doorbell being rung downstairs. He threw her to the floor with a look of hatred.

"We will talk about this later. Make one noise while our guest is here and you _will_ regret it." He threatened, and with that the husband, son, and wife moved back into the hallway, the latter two still staring at Harry as the door was slammed by Vernon and locked from the outside once again. She heard the three walk (or in his uncle and Dudley's case, stomp as there was nothing else they could do with their weight) back down the hallway and down the stairs. A few seconds later, she strained her ears and heard her aunt open the door to greet whoever it was and a second later, she screamed and Harry's heart leapt up into her throat. Oh Merlin! Was it Death Eaters?

"What are you freaks doing here? You stay away from my house!" Vernon shouted from downstairs, and Harry's heart dropped. It defiantly more than one, and by the sound of it they were witches, wizards, or both. Oh no. If it was Death Eaters, she was done for. Was it only Voldemort who couldn't get through the blood wards? She knew they didn't know who all the Death Eaters were, so was it possible some of them could get through? She heard a few voices she vaguely recognized start talking all at once, and she hoped to Merlin it was somebody Dumbledore at least knew that would take her somewhere safe. She just noticed the owl outside her window, and she opened her window to let it in, and it flew by her and landed next to Hedwig's empty cage. Now, she clearly heard three voices she recognized; Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley, and Minerva McGonagall. She sighed in relief and went over to take her letter from the owl. It turned out to be from Arthur Weasley, and it looked to have been written in a hurry.

_Harry,_

_The ministry received word that dark magic had been detected in Surrey late last night. Stay where you are. A mutual friend will be in contact soon._

_Arthur_

'Well, that's helpful now.' Harry thought, shaking her head. She heard Dumbledore's voice rising above the others, silencing them after a moment, and trying to explain the situation that he yet knew nothing about to Harry's confused (in her uncle's case, angry) relatives.

'Wait…dark magic? That ritual was dark magic? Ugh, why don't I pay attention to these things?' she moaned silently, cursing herself. She was broken out of her silent self-loathing by the sound of footsteps up the stairs. Oh, no. What were they going to say when they knew what she did? She quickly hid under her blanket on her bed, and stared at the door outside which three voices were conversing quietly before a murmured _Alohomora_ unlocked all the locks at once. As the door opened to reveal the two wizards and one witch, all that could be seen from beneath the blanket was one green eye peeking out at them.

"Harry?" Arthur asked cautiously, edging toward the bed, all three adults clearly apprehensive of what might happen. Harry just shook her head from beneath the blankets.

"Harry, come out from under there, dear boy. We need to know what happened." Dumbledore implored, inching ever closer with the two others flanking him. Slowly, she pulled off the blanket, looking down at the bed so she didn't have to look at the three. Her appearance drew gasps from all three adults.

"Harry?" Arthur asked uncertainly. Biting her lip, Harry nodded without looking up at them. Glancing over at the pentagram within the circle on the floor, Dumbledore spoke up. It seemed neither of the other two noticed it.

"Which ritual did you use, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, drawing gasps from the other two again.

"You cast that, Harry? Dark magic?" McGonagall asked, looking shocked.

"Dark magic, Harry? Why? Molly would have your head if she knew!" Arthur said, and Dumbledore spoke up again.

"Minerva, Arthur, please. Now Harry, we must know, which one was it?" Dumbledore asked again, and Harry opened her mouth to answer, only to be unable to speak. She swallowed, and tried again, and she could say nothing about the ritual. She couldn't even say that she couldn't speak of it. "Come on, Harry. We won't be angry." Dumbledore said, imploring Harry to speak.

"Sir…I…" But she fell silent again, her mouth open, not even being able to mouth the words.

"Will it not allow you to speak of it, Harry?" Dumbledore asked kindly, finally being able to guess at the reason for Harry's silence on the matter. Harry looked relieved.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry." Harry said, relieved that Dumbledore had guess as that was the only explanation she could think of as well.

"Quite alright, my dear…shall we say girl, for now?" Dumbledore asked kindly. Harry wanted to scowl at that, but seeing as it was her fault, she had the good grace to look ashamed. "Very well," Dumbledore said, taking Harry's silence as assent. "Now, shall we discuss what we shall do about your schooling?" Dumbledore asked, causing Harry to look alarmed.

"I will be able to go back to Hogwarts, won't I Professor? Please? I'm sorry I did dark magic! I'm sorry I did magic when I wasn't supposed to! Just please don't make me stay here!" Harry looked desperate, and on the verge of tears, but she restrained herself. Both Minerva and Arthur frowned at that. Surely it wasn't _that_ horrible here, even though he _did_ have to live with muggles.

"Yes, my dear. You will be able to return to Hogwarts for the school year. We must, however, take precautions; more than usual, this year I'm afraid. You will have to go under a false name, so that no one suspects what happened, and you will need to purchase another wand, so that no one can identify yours when you need to use magic. You will keep your main wand away except in dire need, as another will serve you well enough in classes for this year. Is that acceptable?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded fervently.

"Anything you want, sir! I would be re-sorted into Slytherin if it meant going back to Hogwarts!" Harry said, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with that, though Harry didn't notice as she was too excited at the prospect of going back to school.

"Now, Harry," Arthur started, and fixed him with an uncommonly stern look. "As the person who received the memo last night is a friend of mine, and a member of…a secret organization that I…know of…I've asked him to keep this quiet. But Harry, I must know why you decided that it was worth it to do such dark magic. What did you hope to gain?" Arthur asked, and the other two, wanting to know as well, just listened.

"Er…that is…I dunno how much I can say, but…I'll try to explain." She said, looking sheepish. She pulled the piece of parchment out of her trunk that she had copied the ritual down on. To her astonishment, the parchment was blank. "I don't understand. I copied it here, word for word!" Harry said, turning the parchment over frantically and searching it with her eyes. "I swear, I had the whole ritual copied down on this parchment! Oh, where did it go?" She said, throwing the parchment aside to dig in her trunk again. That must be the wrong piece. Meanwhile, Dumbledore had picked it up and aimed his wand at it, non-verbally casting the revealing charm. Nothing happened, and he frowned at it. He tried it on the other side with the same result. "Agh! I don't understand! What could have happened to it? I took specific notes so I couldn't get it wrong!" she growled, tearing her trunk apart looking for it. Dumbledore, meanwhile, had an idea.

"_Accio_ copied ritual instructions!" he said firmly, truly expecting it to work. However, both witches and wizards looked around and nothing had moved. Harry was truly at a loss.

"Could it have been an obliteration charm?" Arthur asked, grasping at straws.

"No," Dumbledore said, "That would have erased any evidence of the ritual or the residual dark magic that resides around such a thing, along with any instructions. The ritual must have done this for some reason." Dumbledore said, and suddenly something hit Harry, but she couldn't voice it because of the inability to speak about the ritual.

'The book said something about this. The spell would disappear once it was used, so that the witch or wizard couldn't use it again, as being granted your heart's desire even once was a divine gift. That must include self-copied instructions.' Harry thought, shaking her head and sighing. There was no way she could articulate this. Now she fervently wished that one of them could read minds so she could relate to them all she knew about the ritual. Maybe they could help her reverse it.

"Can we figure this out elsewhere? We really must be going, Albus." McGonagall said, waving her wand and having everything of Harry's pack itself in her trunk.

"Professor?" Harry asked timidly, looking at the other witch.

"Yes, Harry?" she asked, still magically gathering her things.

"Where are we going?" she asked, hoping she could go to the burrow for the remainder of the summer holiday.

"That, Harry, we cannot explain quite yet. Suffice it to say, somewhere safe." Dumbledore said, looking at McGonagall who looked to be done packing for Harry.

"Are you finished, Minerva?" he asked, and she nodded solemnly. Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage, feeding her a quick treat through the bars before turning back to her professors and adopted father.

"Are we leaving now?" Harry asked, walking back toward them.

"Yes, I believe we are ready." Dumbledore said, leading the small entourage out of the smallest bedroom and down the stairs, McGonagall levitating the trunk behind them. They all stopped in the entranceway, and his aunt, uncle, and cousin were still there, the first and last looking quite terrified and her uncle maintaining an impressive shade of purple in his face. Harry might have apologized were it someone else he were living with, but he hated these people and they deserved more than a minor inconvenience. Or at least, her uncle did. When they all gathered together, Arthur spoke to tell Harry part of the plan.

"Wand out, Harry. We're going to disillusion ourselves so we can apparate where we need to go as soon as we're outside the blood wards." Arthur said, and Harry obeyed right away. Dumbledore tapped Harry over the head with his wand, and Harry felt as if someone had broken a cold raw egg over her head. She watched in amazement as she began to blend in to the bland carpeting and the cream paint of the wall behind her. She wasn't so much invisible as a human chameleon now. She would have been a bit more excited about this had she not done something incredibly stupid to cause all this just the night before. The rest of them disillusioned themselves seconds later, casting the charm on his trunk as well.

"Let us go, then." Dumbledore said, and with what looked like three figures and a trunk with some very odd coloring, changing every second to constantly match the surroundings, walked right out the front door, walking until they were well past the wards and into an alley as an added precaution. Harry was the only one in muggle clothing, and thus, were they to be seen clearly, would be the only muggle looking one out of the group. Dumbledore spoke up, startling Harry. "Harry. I would like you to retrieve your invisibility cloak from your trunk and put it on as an added precaution." Dumbledore said, and Harry stumbled over to where she thought her trunk would be. It could be very disorienting not knowing where one's feet were. McGonagall helped her by lifting the charm on her trunk and lowering it to the ground for a moment. She opened it and luckily, the cloak was lying right at the top. She grabbed it and quickly swung it over herself, closing the trunk once again and standing back as it was disillusioned and levitated once again.

"Alright Harry, where are you. We need to be going." Arthur's voice called, and Harry, whose wand was _not_ invisible or disillusioned, pointed it outward from under her cloak. "Ah, there we are. Come along. Grab my arm and hold on tight, if you would." Arthur said, closer than he originally was. Harry saw his disillusioned arm move toward her, the colors shifting around it. She reached out and grabbed it, holding on tightly like he instructed. "Have a good hold, Harry?" Arthur asked, and Harry nodded before remembering she couldn't be seen.

"Yes sir." She said quietly, still somewhat subdued. She knew the Weasley's would be disappointed in her once they learned she had performed dark magic. With a sudden jolt, she felt as if she were being squeezed through a rubber tube, and she couldn't breathe. She started to panic until suddenly her surroundings changed and she could breathe again. The houses around her looked like ordinary muggle houses. Why on earth was she taken to a muggle town? She looked around at the addresses, only to discover something curious. Of the buildings that were numbered, it went from one to twenty, as it seemed, on this block. They were numbered normally up to number eleven, and then number thirteen was right next to it, almost as if someone had decided to skip the number twelve. Odd, that.

"Here we are." Arthur said quietly, pulling a small piece of parchment out of his robes and showing it to Harry. It was a bit disconcerting, as it looked like the parchment was floating in midair. "Read this, Harry; quickly. Memorize it." Arthur said, and Harry read the address written in a familiar handwriting that she couldn't place. "Got it?" Arthur asked, and with Harry's murmur of assent the man held the parchment away from him and ignited it with the tip of his wand and a silent _Incendio_, letting the small parchment go up in flames and watching it turn to ash before their eyes. "Alright now, Harry. Think about the address you just read. Keep it at the front of your mind." Arthur said, and Harry obeyed. Right as Harry got to the last 'e' of the address, Number 12 Grimmauld Place started to appear before her eyes. It stretched itself into existence between numbers 11 and 13 as if it had never been missing, growing outwardly on both sides from the middle.

Harry watched, amazed, as the house grew into existence. It was the most amazing bit of magic she had ever seen, and the people on either side, muggles or not, had noticed nothing about a house suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Harry shook her head and discarded that notion quickly. It couldn't have appeared out of nowhere. More than likely, it was just hidden away from prying eyes. When the house finally stopped growing, Arthur nudged her toward it and started toward it himself. When they walked through the gate, Harry felt herself pass through the wards and she was surprised. They were strong. Almost as strong as the ones over Hogwarts.

'Well, what should I expect? We are hiding from a powerful megalomaniac. I guess these kind of protections are common during times like these. It's actually kind of depressing that they're needed. I hate what Voldemort does to people! Who does he think he is, ruining everyone's lives?' Harry thought vehemently as they approached the front door. Arthur murmured something and suddenly he was visible beside Harry again. He pointed his wand at Harry, murmured what must have been the same spell, and turned back to open the door. Harry slipped off her invisibility cloak, as she figured it must be safe now as he had already lifted the disillusionment charm. Curiosity quickly replaced anger as Arthur opened the door to reveal a surprisingly dark and depressing house. Holding a finger to his lips, Arthur led Harry silently up the stairs to a room at the top of the first landing. He went to stand by a door further away from the stairs and Harry followed him.

"Harry, come in here and I'll show you the room. We'll set up another bed for you later." Arthur said in a hushed voice. Harry followed him into the room and Arthur closed the door quietly behind them. "As you can see, it only has two beds, so we'll have to put another in here for you." Arthur said, gesturing around the room.

"Er…okay, but…who am I sharing a room with?" Harry asked, nonplussed. There would be other people staying in this depressing house?

"Hermione and Ginny. We were going to set you up in a room with Ron once we had come to pick you up, but considering the circumstances, it would be highly inappropriate now." Arthur said, making Harry's eyes widen.

"Inappropriate? Mr. Weasley, Ron and I are best mates! And no matter my current condition, I don't like blokes! Besides that, I'm still a bloke on the inside. Wouldn't it be inappropriate to share a bedroom with the two _girls_?" Harry asked, panicked. She didn't want to be considered a girl no matter her current physiology. Arthur looked thoughtful.

"I guess you do have a valid point, Harry. Very well. We'll wait to see what Molly thinks about this. For now, let's go join everyone for breakfast. I'm sure they're almost finished but Molly won't mind cooking a bit more for us." Arthur said, reaching over to open the door. Harry stopped him with a hand, looking nervous.

"Everyone? Just who is '_everyone_'?" Harry asked, biting her lip nervously. Arthur looked surprised, but then understanding dawned on his features and he smiled a bit at Harry.

"It will be a little awkward, won't it? I'm sorry Harry, but you do need to eat and you're going to have to see everyone eventually. As for who 'everyone' is, my family now lives here, along with your godfather, Sirius Black, and his…rather eccentric house elf Kreacher, though you'll hardly have to worry about him as he usually keeps to himself. Hermione has come to stay as well, and other members of the order come here for meetings, though no one that doesn't live here is here now." Arthur said, and Harry frowned, both in mortification and curiosity. Curiosity won out for the moment.

"What is the order, and what are the meetings for?" Harry asked, forgetting the promise of food in the face of some new information, more than she'd had over the summer, at least. Arthur rubbed the back of his head, the picture of uncertainty. With a shrug, it looked like he reluctantly decided.

"Well, Harry. The order is The Order of the Phoenix. It's an organization headed by Professor Dumbledore. The order is the main force heading the side of light. It's at the meetings that we decide what we are going to do against you-know-who, and we share any new information with the others that we have about his plans. We, like he, cannot do anything openly yet. The ministry still refuses to believe that he's back, and so it prevents us from moving in the open. Fudge is getting more and more suspicious of Professor Dumbledore, and any organization headed by him would naturally fall under suspicion too, so we have to do everything underground. Fudge has the insane idea that Dumbledore wants his job, so he's been trying to discredit him, and yourself, although you already knew that." Arthur said, and Harry's eyes widened at that last.

"No, I didn't. What are they doing to discredit us exactly? They still don't believe me? Does he have to start attacking people before they'll believe it?" Harry finished, her voice shrill by the end of this.

"Harry, calm down. This is a distressing issue for everyone, but it will only cause you unnecessary stress to remain worried about it when there is nothing we can do at the present. The best we can do is gather intelligence and wait for our chance to hit them where it hurts. And have you not been receiving the prophet?" Arthur asked, looking surprised. Harry looked confused.

"Well yeah, but I didn't really see anything about me or Dumbledore in there. And I should have guessed that they still didn't believe us. I never saw anything about Voldemort either." Harry said bitterly, ignoring Arthur's wince.

"Have you been reading them throughly?" he asked, and Harry looked sheepish.

"Not cover to cover, but I read the main articles, yeah. If there were anything important it would be in the headlines." Harry said defensively. Arthur held his hands up placatingly.

"This wouldn't be in the headlines. It isn't in big articles or anything. They just sort of slip you in, like a standing joke. Some of it is quite nasty, actually." Arthur said, the disgust apparent on his face.

"What do you mean? What have they been writing? Rita Skeeter hasn't anything to do with this, has she?" Harry asked, grimacing as she thought about all the damaging articles the cursed woman had written before. She would bring her down if she went back on her word to Hermione.

"No, actually. It's strange, really. Hasn't written anything since your last school year." Arthur said, and Harry couldn't help the slight grin that crossed her face at that. It was wiped off fairly quickly by his next words though. "The thing is, they've used what she'd written as fodder for what they're doing now." Arthur said, shaking his head disgustedly.

"Trying to discredit me. They're going to get people killed!" Harry said heatedly, glaring angrily at nothing in particular.

"I know, and that's not all. It's the way they're doing it. They're making you out to be some deluded, attention-seeking person who thinks he's a great tragic hero or something. They keep slipping in snide comments about you. If some far-fetched story appears, they say something like 'a story worthy of Harry Potter' and if anyone has a funny accident or anything, it's 'let's hope he hasn't got a scar on his forehead or we'll be asked to worship him next'-"

"I don't want anyone to worship me!" Harry said hotly, and Arthur back off a bit.

"I know Harry. We all do. They're just trying to turn you into someone who no one will believe. We all figure Fudge is behind it. They want wizards on the street to think that you're just some stupid boy who's a bit of a joke; who tells ridiculous stories because he loves being famous and wants to keep it going." Arthur said, looking apologetic. Harry looked livid.

"I didn't ask-I didn't want-Voldemort killed my parents!" Harry spluttered. "I got famous because he killed my family but couldn't kill me! Who wants to be famous for that? Don't they think I'd rather it never happened?" Harry asked, almost too angry to speak now.

"I know, Harry. We all regret it. And Fudge is _not_ helping the situation by doing this. That's why we're fighting, Harry. To make sure you-know-who can never do anything like that again." Arthur said solemnly. Harry just nodded tightly, her red hair swinging forward and then backward quickly at the movement. Arthur clapped suddenly, startling Harry and making her jump. "Well, enough of that for now, Harry. Let's go down and get some breakfast so I can get back to work before they know I'm gone!" Arthur said energetically, opening the door and making his way quietly back down the stairs. Harry groaned quietly and threw her invisibility cloak on a bed. She then followed after Arthur, her anger momentarily forgotten as her mortification resurfaced.

'Well, time to go face the music.' She thought, wincing.

End Ch


	2. Reintoducing Oneself

**A/N:** Due to a reminder from a review, I have decided to put in a warning. There will be slight Sirius and Dumbles bashing, but only slight. I want to point out that I do not dislike either character, but this is how I can see both Dumbles and Sirius acting here, so I will _not_ change it.

* * *

**Ch. 2: Reintroducing oneself**

She kept no more than five feet behind Arthur, and as they finally reached a door on the first floor, Arthur stopped and the tension in Harry's stomach knotted almost to the point of pain. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and she kept a few feet away from him so she wouldn't be seen when he opened the door. As he reached for the door knob she opened her mouth and almost asked him to stop before she thought better of it and closed her mouth rather quickly. She knew she needed to do this. If she couldn't face her family who would need to know her secret, how could she face all of Hogwarts who didn't need to know it, and probably wouldn't. But then, maybe that was the problem. He wouldn't have to tell any of them. He _had_ to tell his extended family, because they would most likely all need to help in the endeavor to hide who she truly was. She thought idly that it would be nice not to be the boy-who-lived for awhile, but then she shook her head. She had to get through this first.

'One step at a time, Harry. First I need to get this over with.' She told herself silently, watching as Arthur went into the kitchen before her, leaving the door open a bit behind him. She could hear voices from inside.

"Arthur, what are you doing back so early? They didn't find out, did they?" asked the slightly frightened voice of Molly Weasley.

"No dear, not at all. I had to come back for another reason entirely." Arthur said, soothing his wife.

"Is it…" Molly started, and her husband quickly spoke up.

"No, Molly. It isn't that either. Everything is normal for the time being. Well, except…Harry, would you come in here please?" Arthur called, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. All of a sudden, a rush of voices could be heard, and he was almost afraid that they would come charging out into the hallway. Arthur must have held them off if they did, because he spoke up only a few seconds after the rush of voices. "Calm down, you lot! Sit back down. He's coming in so you don't all need to go barreling out after him, yeah? Sit down and eat, and he'll be in." Arthur said, and Harry took a deep breath. It was now or never. She waited until she heard the scrape of chairs, then she started toward the door. As she started to open the door a bit more, which opened inwardly, she decided it best to get it over with and opened it quickly, stepping inside. When she did, there was automatically dead silence where there used to be at least quiet conversation. She was afraid to look at anyone so she stared at the floor. Sirius was the first to speak up.

"Harry?" he asked cautiously, clearly at a loss for words. Harry looked up at him nervously, waiting to see the imminent rejection. He looked around and everyone looked as if they'd never seen him before. They were all in various states of shock, but of course, Fred and George were the first to break the silence. The two bounded up to stand on either side of him.

"Harry!"

"Did you do something-"

"Different with your hair?"

"Couldn't stand not looking as good as us-"

"So you went for Weasley chic, yeah?"

"Good on you!" they both said, slapping her back. At that, Harry couldn't help but laugh, and that soon broke the tension and everyone else, save Remus and Sirius came up to greet her. Hermione rushed in with a hug.

"Oh Harry, what happened? Why are you a girl? Are you okay?" she asked, and Harry tried to answer her questions, though everyone else was firing more questions at him, most of which he couldn't hear over each other.

"Nothing happened, it's a long story, and I'm fine." She said, not noticing the looks of shock she was getting from the two Marauders in the background. When Hermione finally released her, she got all of three seconds to breathe before she was enveloped in another hug by none other than Molly Weasley.

"Oh, dear. Are you hungry. Please, come sit down. You look absolutely peaky. Haven't been feeding you right, those muggles, have they?" Molly asked, but of course Harry didn't answer both because she didn't want them to know how bad it was and because it was a rhetorical question and she was going to be stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey no matter what she said. Molly sat her down quickly and before she could blink, there were no less than three plates filled with breakfast foods in front of her. Arthur was sitting a few chairs away, bolting down a breakfast before he stood back up, kissed his wife, and excused himself to go back to work. All the while, Harry hadn't touched a thing. Molly noticed, and asked. "Harry dear, aren't you hungry?" she asked, coming up to stand beside her. The truth was, Harry had never felt less like eating. She had just come from an environment where she was lucky to get one meal a day, and suddenly all this food was being forced on her. She was suddenly not feeling so great as the smell of the food wafted up toward her again.

"Er, actually, Ms. Weasley, I'm not feeling so great. I think I'll go have a lie down. I'll be back down for lunch." Harry said, standing up and striding from the room before anyone could stop her. She was halfway up the stairs before she heard someone, or rather a few people following her. She didn't stop until she got to the same room that Arthur talked to her in and collapsed on the bed that she had thrown her Invisibility cloak on, her long hair fanning out around her. She felt exhausted and she had just woken up not an hour or two before. She heard the door open and at least two people shuffled in before they closed it behind them.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, and Harry sighed and sat up.

"Sorry, am I on your bed, 'Mione?" she asked, pulling her hair back behind her ears as she sat up and turned to her two best friends.

"Actually, you are, but that's not a problem. We just…need to talk to you." she said, coming and sitting on one side of her while Ron sat on the other. Harry was not stupid enough to ask what about, so she just waited for one of them to speak. Hermione spoke up again. "Harry…is it really that bad at…at your family's house?" Hermione started, and Harry looked at her strangely. That had definitely _not_ been the question she was expecting, and she answered before she realized what she was saying.

"They _aren't_ my 'family'!" Harry said heatedly, covering her mouth after and looking away from her friend.

"Harry, mate…" Ron started, causing Harry to look at him. "What we're trying to ask is…are they really…starving you? It seems worse than you're always making it out to be. You looked sick at just the _thought_ of food this morning. 'Mione noticed it before I did, and when she brought it up, it made me wonder too. That isn't a normal reaction, mate, and we're worried about you." Ron said, and Harry glared at him.

"Stop assuming things! What gives you two the right? I just don't feel all that great, okay? This has nothing to do with _them_!" Harry said, standing up and striding away from the bed and toward the door.

"Harry, stop!" Hermione said, standing as well and grabbing Harry's arm before she could leave the room. "Tell us the truth! You're always like this at the start of term feast too. You either don't eat or you barely eat! You need to tell us what's wrong!" Hermione said, and Harry wrenched her arm away from Hermione and glared at her.

"There is _nothing_ to concern yourselves with. I. Am. _Fine_. End of story." Harry said, wrenching the door open and climbing the next set of stairs in a hurry, looking for somewhere to get away from her friends for even a little while. Her friends, it seemed, were content to let her wander alone for the moment, and hadn't come after her. A blessing to be sure. In her wanderings, she came across a door that positively thrummed with a dark, subtle power that drew her like a magnet. She opened it and was drawn by the shelves upon shelves of books, and as she closed the door and move closer to the shelves, the power from the unknown source in the room resonated with something inside her and energized her like nothing she had ever felt before. It was like being awake for the first time in a long time, and she reveled in the feeling. She was drawn to the books, and she picked one up off the shelf, not caring the least about the title, which happened to be _The Mind Arts: Legilimency and Occulumency_. The book seemed to purr when she picked it up.

She sat down in one of the comfortable Slytherin green chairs that was in front of the already lit fireplace, and read for the whole day. She was retaining information like she never had with her school books. Throughout the day she learned both the theory and the incantation behind Legilimency, and the theory behind Occulumency. She learned the theory so well that she was confident she could perform Legilimency non-verbally if need be, even if not wandlessly yet. She had set aside the book and was practicing building her mental shields, and she was so engrossed in her task that she didn't notice anyone was in her vicinity until they opened the door. While practicing the mental arts, she became more aware of her surroundings, and therefore it came as a shock to her that someone could have approached the door without her realizing. She mentally berated herself for not paying attention, and decided to try to keep her attention on her surroundings and her task the next time she was building her mental defenses. She found that the mind arts calmed her immeasurably, and the room around her gave her the energy to keep it up all day.

Suddenly, her attention snapped back to the intruder as her name was yelled, and she mentally berated herself again.

"Harry! What are you doing in here! What have you been reading! You shouldn't be near any of these books! You shouldn't be able to touch them! I place the wards on them myself! What were you thinking?" Sirius asked, and Harry just looked up at him calmly as he snatched the book up and looked at it.

"There were no wards. Someone else must have broken them. I felt like doing something, so I decided to read. What's the problem?" Harry asked, lying easily. It was no longer hard for her to do so, and she wasn't going to tell him about the effect of the room on her or that the book had practically begged her to read it, or even what all she had already learned from it.

"This room is full of Dark Arts books, Harry. It could have been a disaster if you had picked up the wrong book. Some of these books are cursed! If anyone but a Black picks up some of these, you could have any number of deadly curses unleashed upon you! Do you want that?" Sirius asked, and Harry was still as calm as ever, though it did cause her to think.

'Hmm, so this is the Black house. I wonder why it has a Dark Arts library? What kind of family did Sirius have?' Harry wondered, and she almost smirked as she answered out loud.

"But that one was not cursed, was it? May I have it back? It doesn't have any Dark Arts spells in it, from what I can tell." Harry said calmly, causing the man to really look at the book he was holding for the first time since he picked it up.

"The Mind Arts, Harry? What would you need this for? This is dark magic anyway, pup. You don't need to be studying right now! It's summer! Go have fun with your friends!" Sirius said, setting the book back on the book shelf.

"Oh yeah. I can have loads of fun sitting inside, Siri. Right, I'll just go fly…wait…I can't because there's not room in here and if I go _outside_ I'll be killed! I'll just go talk to my friends…oh wait…I can't because they won't stop asking me stupid questions about my summer!" Harry said, overriding the calm the room gave him in his renewing anger. With the overabundance of energy he had, his magic swirled around him without end, and without him tiring. "'How was your summer, Harry?' 'Are you alright, Harry?' 'Have they been feeding you, Harry?' 'We're worried about you, Harry!' Why the bloody hell can't everyone just leave me alone! Do you want to know the answer to all those questions Siri? Fine, My summer was bloody horrible because I was worked like a house elf as usual! When I wasn't working, I was locked in my bloody room! Oh yeah, and let's not forget the next question because I bloody well am _not_ alright! I'm horrible! I'm a god damned woman for Christ sake! And don't even get me started on the pure lack of _any_ useful information!"

"It was always 'Keep your nose clean' or something stupid like that! Well guess what? I had no bloody choice as I was _locked_ in my room! Oh yeah, and my favorite, have they been feeding me! Feeding me? I'm lucky to be _alive_ right now! That's how much they bloody fed me! I can't even look at food right now without getting sick! I can't think of eating without thinking of how it's just going to come right back up afterward because I haven't had anything _decent_ to eat since I left bloody Hogwarts! So excuse me if I want some time to do what _I_ want! Is that so much to ask?" Harry said, breathing heavily by now. She was so angry that she hadn't noticed Remus or her friends had arrived and were waiting outside the door Sirius had left open. Everyone was speechless. Finally, Harry tired of being a spectacle and spoke. "OUT! EVERYONE LEAVE ME THE BLOODY HELL ALONE BEFORE I HEX YOU ALL! OUT!" Harry said, pulling her wand and aiming it mainly at Sirius because he was the only one actually in the room.

Sirius had to remind himself that the witch in front of him was _not_ Lily Potter nee Evans, but Harry, and was in fact a _wizard_ at least on the inside, and that even though when she looked like this, it was indeed a good idea to clear out, this was Harry and therefore he reasoned that a different approach was in order. He was wrong of course.

"Harry. You need to calm down, okay? We're just trying to help you." He said in what he thought was a soothing voice, though it did nothing but make Harry angrier. Her magic swirled even more wildly around her and she glared at him.

"OUT!" she shouted, and with that one shouted word, her magic shot out in a shockwave that sent Sirius flying out into the hallway and into the crowd of people standing out there and slamming the door. She sat down to calm herself using her newly learned Occulumency techniques, as the room's calming effect seemed to have no effect on her right now, while she watched the door handle jiggle and a few muffled voices shout behind the door at her. She merely practiced her Occulumency until they left, which took a total of about an hour, it seemed, and when the voices on the other side of the door were gone, she got up and took the book again and sat down to start her study once more. After only a half an hour more of study, she felt several others enter the wards and figured the order must have arrived. Not that she cared much at the present. She wasn't given any information over the summer while she was away so she wouldn't be given any while here. Dumbledore would obviously say she was too young. She wondered idly if he had mentioned what had happened to the other order members. She scoffed. Probably not. He probably didn't want them to know that their _Golden Boy_ had used dark magic. She snorted at that. Not so golden anymore, and definitely not a boy.

She was getting more and more used to her being a female already, and though she thought she was oddly complacent for a guy that just became a woman, she thought it must have something to do with both the calming effects of the room and her Occulumency that allowed her to organize her thoughts better while they weren't clouded by turbulent emotions, and work through her problems much more quickly. She was already beginning to love this library, and she had only spent today in it. It had been a quiet day, though, until Siri came and interrupted. It had been…peaceful. A kind of contentment she had never felt filled her when she was here, and the knowledge she gained while she was here only added to that. Suddenly, there was a knocking at the door and a voice sounded from the other side.

"Harry! Harry my boy! Open this door!" Dumbledore said from the other side. Harry groaned.

'Great; Dumbledore. By the sounds of it, he hasn't told the order what happened to me yet.' Harry thought, rolling her eyes. She got up and put the book away. No use in showing the headmaster what she was studying. He might find out from Sirius anyway. 'In that case, I may as well just take the book.' Harry thought, and with that thought she reached for it. When she picked it up, it automatically shrunk in her grasp. She gaped at the pocket sized book in her hand for a moment before hastily stuffing it in her pocket. She silently thanked the library, for she knew that she hadn't done that, and the room seemed to purr in contentment as she went to the door and opened it rather than making the man force it open. If the library liked her so much she might as well try to make sure it didn't get damaged.

"Was there something you needed, sir?" Harry asked as she was faced by a concerned looking Dumbledore.

"Harry. Your godfather says you've been in here all day and you won't talk to your friends. Is something wrong?" Dumbledore asked, and wasn't that an understatement. Harry had to fight down a surge of resentment.

"Nothing at all, Professor. My godfather doesn't understand that _some_ of us would rather study than mess around with annoying and useless chatter all day. If I'm able to do something useful then who are they to impede my academic progress with useless past times? I can't go outside and fly, and I certainly cannot do so in the house. What is there to do but study and my summer homework, as I wasn't_ allowed_ to do so at the Dursley's." Harry said coolly, openly glaring at the headmaster now.

"Well, I didn't know you felt so strongly about your school work, Harry. I will ask them to leave you to your own devices then." Dumbledore said, ignoring the second issue as Harry knew he would.

"Of course, Professor; thank you." Harry said, and her voice was colder than a glacier. She strode past the man and back down the stairs, hoping that her trunk was here by now. When she reached Hermione and Ginny's room, she listened and they seemed to be talking. Ignoring them, she opened the door and searched with her eyes. One more bed had been added here (Molly must have decided it appropriate for her to sleep in here anyway) and her trunk was mercifully at the end of it. Ignoring her friend's immediate silence (which meant they had just been talking about her) she strode over to her trunk.

"Mate…are you…okay?" Ron asked from across the room.

"I'm fine." Harry said shortly, opening her trunk to dig out her school books and her assignments so she could finally finish her summer homework. She took out her school bag and filled it with what she needed silently while the others just seemed to stare at her.

"So Harry, doing homework then?" Hermione asked lightly, obviously trying to keep her from getting angry.

"Yes. I wasn't allowed to do it at…I wasn't allowed to do it there." Harry said. She would never call Private Drive home. It wasn't and it never would be. As soon as she was done packing her bag, she strode from the room, looking at none of them, and went right back up to the library, where she closed the door behind her. She silently asked the room to make sure it was locked to everyone else and sat down with her work. Just as she was finishing her Essay for History of Magic, which she largely had to consult her book on, another knock came at the door. This time it was Remus.

"Harry. Professor Dumbledore wants you downstairs for dinner. He knows you haven't eaten all day and he says he wants you to eat dinner at least." Remus said, and Harry sighed, finishing up her last sentence. She laid it out to dry, set her quill aside, closed her ink bottle, and left everything where it sat as she went to the door. Harry said nothing as she opened the door and strode past Remus and downstairs, but she was fuming. She wanted to give that old man a piece of her mind, but she calmed herself down once again by clearing her mind and allowed herself to think rationally. It wouldn't do to lose her cool in front of the others and start berating the man. But Harry's anger just kept flaring up and she had to keep repressing it.

'Where was _he_ when I wasn't getting fed _period_ by my aunt or uncle, or only when they felt like it? Where was _he_ before I came to Hogwarts while I was being treated as a house elf, beaten starved, worked almost to death, and being made to sleep in a cupboard under the blood stairs? Why is he _so_ concerned now, when he wasn't ever before when he _didn't_ have to see me?' Harry was fighting to keep her temper down now. Her rational mind kept telling her that it would do her no good to let loose on the man when she saw him, but the less rational and more emotional part of her mind kept whispering about how good it would feel to just tear into the man with all his _loyal_ followers watching. She knew it would definitely _feel_ rewarding for awhile, but seeing as some of those followers were Professors, it was best that she kept her temper. It wouldn't do to start the semester behind points and in detention. She thought that even the Weasley twins had never had detention on their first day back before. Yes. Best to just stay calm, eat dinner, and go back to her study.

She took a deep breath and stopped for a moment, trying to keep her face passive. She felt as if she were getting better at it since she had started practicing the mind arts. She felt more in control of herself; her emotions, her magic, even her body. She felt she could display any emotion she wanted clearly while feeling the opposite and no one would notice. She even felt she could keep her face impassive and keep others guessing at what she was feeling. That thought would have made her smile, but she really didn't feel much like smiling at the moment. Remus caught up with her, and though she could tell he wanted to say something, she kept a cool, detached expression and he kept silent. When they reached the kitchen, Remus entered first and Harry entered after him. The kitchen was huge, and therefore could seat many people. Not as many as the dining room, which could easily seat near a hundred, but it was nice sized. There were a lot of people here; she guessed it was most likely the whole order so that Dumbledore could get them used to her new 'situation'. There was much discussion between them, but as yesterday, everything stopped when she entered the room. Well, best to get it over with now she supposed.

Suddenly there was a rush of noise and Harry had to fight not only to keep her face neutral, but to keep from covering her ears. She just stood there, arms at her sides, while people were firing random questions off. She heard the name 'Lily Potter' every now and then, as if people were wondering if it was her somehow, and she supposed they weren't too far off. She was the mirror image of Lily's younger self now. What surprised her most was Snape's expression. He was outwardly shocked, and she had never seen him show anything but disdain or loathing. No, she had seen him amused too, she supposed, but that was _not_ something any student wanted to see. She was a little surprised that he was here, but she supposed she ought not to be. Dumbledore trusted him, after all. Her face remained impassive through it all, and, ignoring the questions, she looked to Dumbledore. It _was_ his idea for her to come down here.

'So that was his plan then. Make sure everyone, or damn near everyone was here and then show me off and introduce me as Harry Potter. Ha. He really does like to shock people, doesn't he? What a joke. He's going to say something; I know it. I don't know what it is yet, but it will probably be to the effect of 'Due to some unforeseen circumstance, Harry now looks like his deceased mother. Please don't treat him any differently.' Ha. Like they won't. Everyone will see me as her, just as everyone seen me as bloody James Potter when I looked like him. I hate being seen as my bloody parents!' Harry inwardly fumed, but outwardly she was still impassive. Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak and Harry mentally braced herself.

"Everyone. This is Harry Potter. Harry, this," He gestured at most of the people he didn't know. Moody (the real one, thank Merlin) was there, along with Snape, McGonagall, and most of the others Harry didn't know. "is The Order of the Phoenix, with the obvious exception of Hermione and the Weasley children." Harry had to refrain from rolling her eyes.

'Really. Who else would they be? A bloody traveling circus that you just _happened_ to invite to dinner?' Harry thought sarcastically, forcing herself to speak politely aloud.

"It's nice to meet you all." Harry said as politely as she could. A surge of people got up to greet her at once, and there were a ton of questions again. It was like breakfast, only ten times worse, and she had to resist the urge to turn and run when she was surrounded by people that wanted to shake his hand and people that wanted to know what happened and why she looked the way she did. As the people closed into a circle she was forcefully reminded of Voldemort's circle of death eaters, and she started to panic. Her breathing got shallow, more erratic, and faster, and she began to look for escape routes. Seeing a weak spot facing the doorway, she took a chance and forced her way through the gap, bolting upstairs and to the library before anyone knew what happened. She was in the library before she knew what had happened. The room calmed her, as she could not clear her mind at the moment, and slowly she sunk into a chair.

'What was that? Why did I just panic? That was the Order of the bloody Phoenix, not a circle of death eaters! Why the hell didn't I just explain as best as I could, or better yet why didn't I let Dumbledore explain? Damn. I'm a celebrity! What's going to happen if I go out in public and I end up surrounded? Am I just going to start hexing people? Wait, I don't look like myself, so that's not so much of a problem, but still…anyone who knew my mum would freak out and either try to hex me or talk to me. Ugh, but what was I doing. I just freaked out in front of Snape. He'll never let me live it down, not to mention the fact that I'm a woman and I look like my dearly departed mum. He's going to have a bloody field day. And I embarrassed myself in front of the _entire_ organization that heads the side of light. Great.' Harry groaned aloud and slouched down in her chair. Glancing over at her History of Magic essay, it still wasn't dry. She decided to use the desk she had seen against one of the library walls instead, and so, leaving her bag and essay where they were, she dug out her Transfiguration homework, her book, her quill, and her bottle of ink.

Making her way over to the desk, she discovered that it already had Slytherin green quills tipped in gold and blood red ink (at least she hoped it was ink). She decided to use her own ink, but she used one of the gold tipped quills and it wrote a lot better than any of hers did. She could never quite trim hers right, and no matter what she always had a messy hand. She was only a few minutes into her homework when someone came knocking on the library door _again_!

'Merlin, why can't people just leave me _alone_!' Harry thought, groaning as she ignored them and tried writing the next sentence. She was distracted, however, by someone knocking again, louder this time, and she she paused over the parchment, sighing. 'I wish I couldn't hear them.' Harry thought, shaking her head. She tried to think about what she was going to put for the next sentence, and when she remembered, she wrote it down and the next four and a half inches flowed like water. She let the quill and her hand rest for a bit. Only eight more inches to go and she was done. Suddenly, she realized she hadn't heard them knock again. Odd. She left her things on the desk and moved toward the door, and it sounded like they had left. Well, good to know how much they actually care that she's bloody alive. Maybe they can find someone else to be the bloody boy-who-lived for awhile.

For now, she was just Harry, and she didn't have to worry about the bloody outside world for once, or the megalomaniac waiting out there to kill her (not that he knew what she looked like right now, but seeing as she looked like her mum, it wasn't that big of a leap). She sighed and went back to the desk. It was a few more minutes before she heard the telltale whoosh of the floo activating and Sirius talking from the front of the library.

"She was in here earlier. See, that's her homework right there! Harry, where are you! Come out! We need to talk to you." Sirius called, and he could hear more than one set of footsteps.

"Harry, my boy, are you alright? We were worried about you and we couldn't seem to get through the door. Luckily Ms. Granger had the bright idea to try the floo." Dumbledore said, and Harry could almost hear the infuriating twinkle in his eye. She clenched her fist and set down the quill again before she could damage it. Taking a deep calming breath, she stood up to go out and meet them. She really didn't want to talk to anyone right now, but seeing as they were already in here and they would find her anyway, she figured it might as well be sooner rather than later to get them the hell off her back.

"Harry dear, come out please?" Molly asked. They were getting closer. Steeling herself and making her face impassive, she strode out toward them and stepped out from behind the bookshelf the desk was behind. Three people stepped out from another row, and when they spotted her, they walked toward Harry and Harry toward them. When she reached them, Harry politely greeted them.

"Professor, Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, how may I help you?" she asked politely, pushing down her annoyance.

"Harry, why did you run off like that? We thought you'd run away!" Sirius said, pushing past the other two to run to his godson, or rather, goddaughter at the moment.

"Yes Harry, why did you run?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry felt him probing her mind. She immediately remembered what she had read about Occulumency and showed him what he wanted to see, which was the memory of the order members circling around her, her growing panic at what was happening, and the reason for the panic, being that it reminded her of Voldemort and the graveyard. "Harry, you know no one would hurt you here, right?" Dumbledore asked gently, and Harry almost sneered at him.

'Yet you'll use Legilimency illegally on a student whose mind you could be damaging by doing so. Great job, Dumbledore.' Harry thought, though she didn't let that thought pop the surface. She let false feelings of shame surface as she spoke.

"Yes, sir, I know. I just couldn't help it. I…guess I just panicked." Harry said, looking downward in fabricated shame. She was becoming an excellent liar.

"Hurt Harry? Why would you think that, dear?" Molly asked, and Harry had to tell her. He had already shown Dumbledore the real reason. This time real shame floated to the surface as she spoke.

"Well…when they surrounded me…it felt like…the graveyard…" Harry said in a small voice, and the fear in her voice when she said it was horribly real.

"You mean the graveyard where old snake face came back, Harry? Why? What reminded you of that?" Sirius asked, and Molly looked at Sirius reprovingly while Dumbledore just twinkled, as he was wont to do. Harry swallowed a few times before she was able to answer again.

"Everyone was…surrounding me…and there was no way out…just like…them…" Harry shuddered, in remembrance. She felt fury building up in her as well. She hated being so weak in front of these people. She was supposed to help protect these people. She couldn't protect them if she was weak!

"Oh, Harry!" Molly rushed forward and pulled her into a hug, startling her. "It's alright Harry. You're safe here. You can just forget about all that." Molly said, and Harry nodded before pulling away from the hug, though she wasn't agreeing with Molly at all.

"Well, now that we have that taken care of, we'll leave you to your studying." Dumbledore said, and Harry nodded again. Dumbledore motioned for them to follow him. Harry murmured as she turned around.

"No, I can't. I can never forget that." She murmured, voicing to herself what she wouldn't let them hear. She didn't see it, but Sirius had stopped for a moment, looking back at Harry with something akin to pity before following the other two. She went back to the desk silently, trying to push her memories back down. After a few minutes, she lock the memories and the emotions that went with them away again and for the rest of the day she focused on school work.

End Ch


	3. The History of Dark Magic

**A/N:** You get to learn a bit more about how dark magic works here, and there's more Sirius douchiness. Deal with it. He'll get over his feelings if he wants to maintain a relationship with Harry. You all know that.

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**Ch. 3: The History of Dark Magic**

Harry awoke with a sore neck, looking around. It was dark. She had lit the lanterns last night when it got too dark out to let natural light in so she could continue working.

'They must have burnt out.' Harry thought. Taking her wand out of her pocket, she lit one and looked at what she had fallen asleep on. Her potions essay.

"Fantastic." She was sure Snape would just love the fact that she had a huge drool and ink stain in the middle of it. She would just have to do it over. Stretching, she went toward a lantern. It hadn't burnt all the way down so she noxed her wand, keeping it's point an inch from the wick and lighting it with a very underpowered _Incendio_. With a little more light, she made her way toward the door of the library. She really needed to use the loo. She hadn't gone all day yesterday, though she didn't need to go much considering she didn't have much to eat or drink the last few weeks. She was surprised she wasn't dehydrated, so as soon as she was done in the loo, she bent down and took a few cool swigs of water, wiping her mouth off with her sleeve when she'd finished.

With a quick tempus, she found that it was around 3 a.m., and since no one sane would be up at that hour, she decided to go down to the kitchen and try to see what she could find in the cupboards. She boiled herself some water for tea and she found a tin of biscuits. She took a few of those and munched on them while she waited for her water to boil. It was an extreme relief when she finally sat down with her tea and drank, eating a few more biscuits. It settled her stomach perfectly, and it felt better than it had in days. She sat, organizing her thoughts for awhile, until she noticed someone coming down the stairs. She could feel their magic, but she couldn't identify it yet as she hadn't had much experience with it. She decided that instead of trying to hide she was just going to sit there and drink more tea, as she had finished off her last cup. She got up and made herself more as the person reached the kitchen and entered. At first, the person didn't notice her, but when she went to sit down he jumped.

"Ah, Harry. Morning. Sleep well?" he asked, and Harry nodded.

"It was pleasant enough." Harry said amicably, and Arthur smiled.

"Oh, and you already put the pot on. I'll just go make myself a cup then." Arthur said, walking past Harry to prepare for his morning. Harry yawned. She really wanted to finish her second cup of tea and retreat before the rest of the clan decided to wake and eat. She didn't know if she could be around too many people right now. The whole order might not be here, but she still didn't want to talk to her friends about last night, and she couldn't explain about the ritual if they asked. Damn. Suddenly, as Arthur sat opposite him and snagged the tin, he spoke up.

"What do you think about Lillian Weasley?" he asked, confusing Harry.

"Er, what? Are you and Molly thinking about another baby?" Harry asked, bemused. Arthur burst into laughter.

"No, no Harry. I mean for you. You can't go back to Hogwarts with your current name, so Professor Dumbledore suggested that we get together with you and choose one. That name was actually the Professor's idea, and Molly loves it. Won't go for anything else." Arthur said, shaking his head in amusement.

"Oh, er…well…it's lovely, I suppose." Harry said softly, thinking of her mother. Arthur frowned.

"We can choose another, if you like, Harry. You're going to be called by this name all next school year." Arthur said, looking at Harry. Harry shook her head.

"No. I like it. It'll be almost like…being named after mum." Harry said with a soft smile, staring down at her hands.

"Well," Arthur said after a moment, "I hadn't thought of that. I guess maybe that's why he suggested it." Arthur said, smiling as well. Harry thought for a moment, and she suddenly realized something. She had never properly thanked Mr. Weasley for not letting her be brought into the ministry for the ritual she had done.

"Thank you." She said sincerely, looking him straight in the eye.

"For what, Harry?" Arthur asked, yawning.

"For helping me out yesterday. I don't know why I-" Harry stopped. She couldn't speak anymore about it. Arthur seemed to understand.

"I'm glad to help you, Harry, but you must understand that I only did so because of what you mean to the side of light, and because you're like a son to Molly and I. I cannot do so every time, so I suggest you do nothing of the sort again. I won't be able to help you every time." Arthur said, and Harry nodded.

"I know Mr. Weasley. I really do regret my actions, and not just because of what happened to me. I don't know what came over me." Harry said, taking a sip of her tea.

"That is good, Harry, but you must beware. Once you have used dark magic, weather intentional or not, the temptation to use it again will be great if you have the opportunity. Dark magic is addictive, Harry. I don't want you falling into that lifestyle. Not because I want you purely to cast light magic, because it is your choice, but because of what it will do to you. Dark magic is based on intent. It taints your mind slowly, and it is hard to cleanse once it does. The more tainted your mind becomes, the more you will use dark magic for malicious intent. This is why I am warning you as soon as possible. Be careful what you do Harry, I implore you. We want you to succeed, and you can't do that by getting in trouble with the ministry." Arthur said, and Harry nodded.

"Yes sir." Harry said, subdued. She really hadn't known about that, and now she would definitely be more careful.

'But don't they classify the Mind Arts as dark magic? Dumbledore uses Legilimency, so it can't be that bad, right? I guess I'll have to read a little more into this in the library. I shouldn't just take someone's word for it, even if he is like family.' Harry thought, looking back up as Arthur stood up.

"I'd best be off. Need to be to work. Please, Harry. Try to talk to someone other than just me today, okay?" Arthur asked, taking his tea cup over to the sink.

"I'll…try." Harry said, though she wouldn't guarantee anything.

"Good. See you later, yeah?" Arthur said, and Harry nodded. When the man left, Harry took care of her mess and went back up to the library. She wanted to find out more about dark magic. She closed the door once again, but this time she asked the library silently not to lock it. If they really wanted to come find her, they were free to, but if Sirius tried to interrupt her studies again, she was really going to give him a piece of her mind. She perused the bookshelves carefully until she found exactly what she was looking for. A book entitled _The History of Dark Magic by Arthemitius Black_. She reached up for it, but thought better of it.

'What if this is one of the books Siri told me about? What if it's cursed? How exactly am I supposed to know if I can touch it?' Harry thought, and the book slid out of the shelf a bit on its own. Harry's eyebrow rose. She supposed that must be the library's way of saying she could read it. She reached for it cautiously and touched it with her wand. Nothing happened. She touched it with the tip of her finger. Again, nothing happened. Satisfied, she pulled it off the shelf and went to go sit down. When she opened it, the introduction caught her interest right away.

_Welcome to the History of Dark Magic. There are some common misconceptions made by light wizards that I would like to clear up before anymore is read on the subject. The first, and most common misconception of dark magic is that it is evil. This is simply __**not**__ true. Dark magic as we know it is based on intent. The only reason light wizards view dark magic as evil is because it is powerful, and as such it is used by the wicked as well as the not so wicked. Light wizards, however, are narrow minded. Power does not equal evil. Evil beings crave power, and therefore use dark magic as dark spells are vastly more powerful than light ones. If light magic were more powerful, evil beings would use that as well, and therefore I submit to you that not __**all**__ dark wizards or witches are evil. We only cast more powerful spells than our light counterparts._

_Another misconception is that dark magic pollutes the mind. This is another gross untruth. The circumstances of one's life determine the quality and the condition of one's mind, and using dark magic does not increase the will to use it for nefarious purposes. Say one wanted revenge. It may be a nefarious purpose that one is putting the magic to, but that is one's choice. One always has a choice. It is the circumstances of one's life that sometimes leads a dark wizard to turn evil. It can happen to light wizards as well. Circumstance can also lead to insanity, which can lead to evil. One of sound mind must make a choice, to go down the path of good, or the path of evil on one's own._

_The final misconception that I wish to address is actually half true, and I will explain why. Light wizards say that dark magic, once used, is addictive. This is true, but also untrue. It is true because it is powerful, and power can be addictive. Those who are addicted to power can easily be corrupted, which is perhaps why our ministry, even now, is full of corruption. Magical power or political power, it matters not, for power is power. The type matters little for it is addictive in all forms for those who are susceptible. For those of us who are not overrun by the need for more power, we can use dark magic freely and be true dark wizards, and not be dependent upon the magic we cast to do everything for us. In addition, one need not limit oneself to only dark spells or light spells; just as one need not limit oneself by naming one's own type of wizard. One does not have to choose to be a dark wizard or a light wizard. One can simply be a wizard, and use whatever magic comes to one's mind. The old saying 'Knowledge is Power' comes to mind, for it is the truth with magic. The more knowledge one gains, the more spells one can use and even invent. Any wizard can do great things if one only bothers to use one's mind. Now, without further adieu, I give you the History of Dark Magic, as I have uncovered and researched endlessly._

_Arthemitius Draconius Black_

Harry read through the first four chapters before anyone even knocked on the door. Harry marked her page with a small piece of parchment, set the book down, and cast a quick tempus. It was now around 8 a.m. and it seemed that the residents of the house were just awakening. She went to the door to see who it was, and it was Sirius.

"Harry, Hermione said that you never went to bed last night. Were you in here all night?" Sirius asked, looking around the library with an almost disgusted look on his face.

"Yes, actually. I fell asleep doing my potions essay and now I have to do it over." Harry said, making a face. She still hated potions with a passion, but maybe that had something to do with the arsehole that taught it. Sirius laughed.

"Really? Why? What happened once you fell asleep on it?" he asked, amused.

"I drooled all over it, and I doubt Snape's going to take it with a huge drool stain in the middle of it. I don't want a zero." Harry said, summoning the parchment and showing him for emphasis. It wasn't wet anymore, but the place where it had been was ink smeared so you could no longer read it and crinkly like it had gotten wet and dried, which it had. There really was no salvaging it. Sirius laughed even harder.

"You should hand it in to Snivellus like that. It would be great! Tell him it's the quality of work he deserves!" Sirius said, laughing still.

"Yeah, and get detention with him for the foreseeable future and zeros on all future assignments? No thanks, Siri. I'd rather just do what the git wants and get it over with. I won't have to take his class next year anyway. The only way I will is if I have a chance of being an Auror, and with him as the potions professor I haven't got a shot. I heard he won't take anything less than 'outstanding' O.W.L. students for N.E.W.T.s, and there's no way I'm making that in class right now, let alone on a ministry advised exam. I might get 'acceptable', but more than likely nothing better than that." Harry said, shaking her head and sighing.

"Oh, don't let old Snivellus keep you down, Harry. Do your best, and practice. If you really want to be an Auror, you _need_ to practice. He can't grade you unfairly on your O.W.L.s because he doesn't have a say in the grade. Make that outstanding and that greasy git will have to let you into his N.E.W.T. class." Sirius said, smiling at Harry.

"I'll try, Siri. Thanks. Is everyone up yet? Are they down there for breakfast?" Harry asked, and Sirius looked at her intently before he answered.

"Yeah, you planning to eat with us, pup?" Sirius asked carefully.

"Yeah. I think I can stomach it today, and the whole order isn't here, so there won't be a bunch of people." Harry said, smiling.

"Good. Your friends really miss you. They haven't seen you all summer, you know. And you've been in here practically since you got here. What do you like about this grungy old library anyway? I've never gotten a good feeling from this place. Gives me the willies just being in the doorway like this." Sirius said, looking around once again.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yeah, why?" Sirius asked, looking back at Harry.

"Well actually, I was kind of…drawn here when I was wandering around. This room calms me down. That's why I've been in here. The place even seems to listen to me. That's why when the door locked yesterday you guys couldn't open it. I wanted everyone to leave me alone, and I wasn't doing it with my magic." Harry said, and Sirius looked at him strangely.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Sirius asked, clearly worried about her though this only annoyed her.

"Yes. For instance, this morning, I was looking for a book, and when I went to reach for one, I remembered your warning about them. I wondered silently how I would know if the book was alright to touch, and the book slid outward on the shelf by itself. I figured it was the library's way of saying it was alright, yeah? But I was still cautious. I tapped it with my wand first, and nothing happened. Then, I tapped it with a finger, and still, nothing happened. I finally grabbed it, pulled it out, and even opened it and read it, and nothing happened. It may seem weird to you, Siri, but I think this room is somewhat sentient. This is magic, so why shouldn't it be?" Harry asked, a bit defensively.

"If you say so, Harry." Sirius said, but he still looked skeptical. Harry just shook her head, amused. She could show him one day, and prove it to, but for now, she would leave it be.

"Let's go get some breakfast, Siri." Harry said, walking back down to the kitchen with her godfather.

End Ch


	4. A Godfather's Mistake

**A/N:** Just a small note here. I changed just a few lines in this chapter to make sense with what I wrote in chapter five, as though it may be exasperating, I have almost none of this planned out, so I will regularly have to keep all the details in mind so I don't contradict myself at some point. God I hope I don't. Anyway, if you see any of these contradictions, or any obvious plot mistakes or oversights, be sure to point them out to me and I'll add them into the existing chapters or the next one. Oh, and thanks to whomever it was that pointed out that Harry really shouldn't be just like her parents, as that's kind of pointless with her being her own person and all (Hence her name isn't going to be Lillian, despite what was said or will be said) and the bra thing. *Blushes* That was a big oversight on my part. Both will be corrected in the next chapter, but I would like to say to the same person that her last name will still be Weasley, because the whole cover story consists of her being a cousin, which is why she's staying with them. It could have been Prewitt, but the fact is, I think most of them died out. She loves the Weasleys and this won't change. Oh and please don't kill me. I know this looks like and update, and it's going to get everyone excited when it looks like I've updated, only to find that the latest chapter is still chapter four, but I have chapter five almost done and I promise it will be up within the next day or two. Something to look forward to, I hope.

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**Ch. 4: A Godfather's Mistake**

The conversation at the breakfast table was relatively easy at first. Hermione asked Harry how far along she was on her homework, and she told her, and Hermione even promised to look over some of it for her to help her out. Harry was really grateful for that. Then the conversation turned to the one thing Harry literally could not talk about. She could tell they were all dying to ask her, but the one who finally broke the question was Fred. He actually asked Harry rather tactlessly, too, though Harry didn't really mind. It was just the fact that she couldn't talk about it. The conversation went downhill at that point.

"So, Harry. How did you become such a hot piece of-"

"Fred!" Molly shouted, looking at her son in outrage.

"Treacle tart! I was going to say treacle tart!" Fred said indignantly, though you could tell he was lying because he couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Though that was a rather _rude_ way to go about asking, how _did_ you become a woman, Harry?" Molly asked kindly, and the rest of the table, including Remus and Sirius turned to her.

"Er…well…I…" Harry still couldn't even say that she couldn't tell them.

"Come on, mate. We won't judge you. You know that." Ron said, and Harry turned to him with a helpless look on her face. Hermione spoke up then.

"Alright, if she doesn't want to talk about it, let's leave it alone." Hermione said, sending Harry a sympathetic look. Harry hung her head. She really hated keeping it from her family, but she couldn't speak of it. She thought it was really a rather stupid stipulation. She resolved to look through the books in the library for the ritual, and if she found it, she would point it out to one of her friends until they got the message. She may even need Sirius and Hermione's help with it. She finished her breakfast and stood up suddenly.

"Hermione, Sirius, when you finish could you both meet me in the library?" she asked, and they both looked at her.

"Do you need…help with something?" Hermione asked, and Harry nodded.

"The library? Does it have to be there, Harry?" Sirius asked, and Harry nodded again.

"Okay, I'll help." Hermione said with a smile. Sirius just nodded.

"Thanks." Harry said shortly, and left.

"What was that all about?" George asked, looking at the two. To everyone's surprise, Sirius answered.

"I think it was a compulsion. She may not have been able to answer us because whatever happened may not enable her to talk about it. If she were to find a reference to it somewhere, though, she could point it out." Sirius said, and everyone else looked thoughtful.

"I hadn't even thought of that." Hermione said, looking excited at the prospect of all of those books.

"But why you two?" Ron asked, looking confused. "Why not all of us?"

"I think I know the answer to that too. Harry wants me there because I can touch any of the books without being cursed, since they're part of the Black inheritance." Sirius said, while ignoring Molly's outraged look. "She probably wants Hermione there because from what I heard, she's good with research." Sirius said, and Hermione blushed.

"I'm not all _that_ great." Hermione said modestly, and Molly finally was able to speak.

"Cursed? Cursed? Those books are cursed and she's been allowed to touch any of them that she wants? Sirius Orion Black! How dare you allow that! What is wrong with you? You go and get her _right now_, and don't you _dare_ argue with me!" she shrieked, and most everyone else thought it a good idea to vacate the kitchen while her attention was on Sirius, but of course, as soon as they opened the door the painting of Walburga Black started shrieking because of the noise from the kitchen, and that just got Molly going worse. Poor Sirius got an earful from two sources before he was able to shut the insane portrait up and placate Molly. When Sirius finally made it up to the library, Harry and Hermione were discussing something while everyone else that was in the kitchen was looking around the library though they weren't touching anything. He heard the tail end of the conversation.

"-but those are just some of the main points. You really should read it, 'Mione. It's enlightening. I honestly can't believe how much prejudice there is against it." Harry said, handing a book to her bushy haired friend.

"Fascinating. I think I'll read it a little when we're done finding what we're looking for in here. Are you sure it will be in here?" Hermione asked, looking around the vast library.

"Well, it is a Dark Arts library." Harry said with a shrug, and she smiled when she saw Sirius.

"What were you talking about that there's a prejudice against, Harry?" Sirius asked, and Harry looked at him for a moment before asking a question herself.

"Sirius, what kind of wizard do you consider yourself?" Harry asked, studying his facial expressions. Right then, it turned to confusion.

"What exactly do you mean, Harry?" Sirius asked, bemused.

"Do you consider yourself a light wizard or a dark wizard?" Harry asked, and Sirius looked at him, surprised.

"Light, of course. Why do you think I'm fighting on the side of good?" Sirius asked, and Harry just shook her head and pointed at him, while Hermione looked pensive.

"Wow, you were right, and you never even said anything about it." Hermione said, looking at the book in her hands.

"Right about what?" Sirius asked, getting exasperated at this point.

"The prejudice against dark magic, Sirius. Everyone tends to think that dark is synonymous with evil, but it isn't." Harry said calmly, and Sirius looked at him incredulously.

"Harry, don't tell me you believe all that pureblood drivel about how dark magic isn't evil? It's called dark magic for a reason, Harry." Sirius said, and Harry just shook her head again and sighed.

"It really is a shame that you believe that and you have this whole library to yourself. Most of these books are Dark Arts books, so you'll never touch them. Think of all the knowledge going to waste that no one but you could ever _touch_ here, Siri! Ugh, it drives me mad to know you'll never appreciate the veritable fortune in knowledge you have!" Harry ranted, and everyone stopped to look at her.

"Wow mate. You're almost starting to sound like Hermione." Ron said, and Harry just glared at him.

"What do you expect, Ron? Look at all this! Thousands of years of knowledge here, and it could all burn down for all he cares!" Harry said, pointing an accusing finger at Sirius and throwing a disgusted look his way.

"It's the Dark Arts, Harry! It's _evil_! And the fact that you're pointing out that whatever happened to you can be referenced in here points to the fact that it was _caused_ by Dark Arts!" Sirius said, glaring at his godchild. Harry just huffed.

"I'm not even going to argue with you anymore, Siri." Harry said calmly, turning her back on him. "Everyone, stand back from the shelves a bit." Harry said, taking a deep breath and waiting until everyone had stepped back. Before they had a chance to question her, she sent a request to the library to point out every book that could be touched by someone who wasn't a Black. Roughly a third of the books pulled themselves out of line so they were sticking out.

"What did you just do?" Hermione asked, awed.

"I asked the library to point out any books that could be touched by someone who wasn't a Black." Harry said, and the others looked at her oddly. "What?"

"You…asked the library, mate? Do you know how weird that sounds?" Ron asked, but Harry just rolled her eyes. "It's the truth, watch." She went down the row, pulling out each book that was sticking out and stacking it into her arms until they were full and she had to set them down. Harry looked smug. "Sirius doesn't believe me when I say this room is sentient, but it is. I bet you five hundred galleons that I could walk through here and touch any book that's sticking out right now and I won't be cursed." Harry said, smirking.

"No thanks, mate. I've not got the money myself, and you're obviously confident if you're willing to wager that much on it." Ron said, shrugging and picking up one of the books that she had already stacked.

"I still say you're wrong, Harry. It isn't smart to be touching any of these books." He said, and Harry glared at him again.

"Look at this, Sirius. Your inheritance and you're throwing it away. No one but you could ever touch over two-thirds of these priceless books, and you're still bitching. You really are a prat." Harry said angrily, pulling off the books that she could and stacking them in neat stacks for her friends to glance at while she pulled the rest down. She didn't talk to Sirius for the rest of the time he stood in the doorway, and the man finally left them to it after awhile. When Harry saw him leaving, she huffed angrily. "Bloody git." She said loudly enough so he could hear it, and for once he did the mature thing and just walked away. That made Harry even angrier, but she said nothing and kept working until her arms were sore, and she still hadn't pulled off half the books she could touch. Sighing, she sat down in one of the chairs to join the others who had already sat down and started skimming books. Suddenly, she asked Hermione a question.

"Hermione, do you know how to make magical copies of books?" she asked, and Hermione looked around her nervously at all the books.

"I do, but I can't make copies of all of these, Harry! It would take me forever and it would drain my magic to almost nothing." Hermione said, and she looked alarmed by the very idea.

"No, 'Mione, you misunderstand my intentions. I just want to learn the incantation and the wand movement, and if you would, the basic theory behind the spell." Harry said, and Hermione's eyes lit up like fireworks.

"Are you sure you want just the basic theory? I can write it out in detail, if you want. Not just the basic theory, but the whole concept behind it." Hermione said, and Harry smiled at her.

"That would be great, 'Mione, but it can wait until we look through some of these a bit more. I'm going to dedicate a little time everyday to see if I can't find it, only…" Harry trailed off. She had a theory, but that was all it was.

"Only what, Harry?" Remus asked, though she had everyone else's attention too now.

"Well, I have this theory, but it's only that, really. A theory." Harry said, wondering how much she could say before the spell kicked in.

"We're listening." Hermione said gently, and everyone else nodded.

"Well, don't ask why, but I think that if I were to touch the book that the…thing…is in, that this…thing…might disappear before anyone else got to read it." Harry said, and everyone looked at her.

"Mate, if that's the truth then how will we ever know?" Ron asked, and Harry bit her lip.

"Well, the thing is, I think that if someone else were to find it, I could get close enough to the book without it wiping itself for me to point it out." Harry said. Hermione was pale by now.

"But, Harry. If your theory is true, and it was in any of the books lying here, it isn't now. You've touched them all to take them off the shelves." Hermione said, and Harry looked stricken. Then, she looked angry.

"I am such an idiot!" she raved, and slapped her palm against her forehead. It was amusing to some, but no one laughed. "That was the whole point in bringing you _and_ Sirius, because I had this theory from the beginning, but I was so set on proving him wrong that I just _had_ to be stupid about it and touch all these!" Harry said, gesturing at the stacks of books. She sighed and sat down heavily. She rubbed her hands against her eyes tiredly, and shook her head.

"Look, Harry. Let's all take a break. You need a rest more than any of us, and you need some proper sleep. Go to sleep, okay?" Hermione asked, and Harry just nodded. They all got up and Harry headed down to the girl's room, where an extra, comfortable bed waited for her. She fell asleep almost instantly when her head hit the pillow, and when she awoke, it was dark and she could tell the other two girls were already asleep. She cast a tempus and it was half past 1 a.m. She got up and crept out of the room, deciding to peruse the library visually to see if she could spot any ritual books so she could point them out later in the day. On her way, she looked down the stairs and the light in the kitchen was on. Hmm, the Order must be having a meeting, but so late? It must have been important. She shrugged. If Dumbledore wasn't going to trust her with information, she wasn't going to beg him.

She went up to the floor with the library on it, and found it odd when she couldn't feel it. She would have usually felt it as soon as she reached the landing, but all of a sudden she couldn't. She lit her wand, and there it was, but the door was closed and she could feel nothing. She placed her hand on the door, and still nothing, and now she was getting concerned. Why wasn't the library responding to her? She tried the knob, and it wouldn't budge, and suddenly, she knew. Only the head of the household could place something like this on a door (unless the room was sentient). She couldn't get in, just like when the room had locked the others out for her. She was in shock, and then she was angry. So this is how he was going to play it then, huh? Fine. Two could play at that game. Whatever. It was his right, as the head of the household, and the heir to everything in it, to keep her away from his books and out of a room if he so chose, but if he was going to be childish like that, then she wouldn't even acknowledge him anymore. She would just bide her time until she went back to Hogwarts. She wouldn't even floo in to get her bag.

She would find something else to do until she had to go back, and it would be his fault she couldn't get her summer assignments done. If a grown man, who just happened to be her godfather could act like a petulant child than she could do something slightly childish like blaming him for her not being able to do her assignments, which was perfectly true, if only for the fact that she would never talk to him to get her bag back. She may even ask Hermione to ask, just so she still wouldn't have to associate with the petulant git. She crossed her arms and huffed. She wished that the library could hear her right now and just let her in anyway, but if she couldn't feel it then it definitely couldn't feel her. She knew it was sentient. Ever since the first time it had shrunk that book for her.

'The book! I can still study the mind arts! If not physically, then mentally at least. I can still even practice Occulumency! Ha, you stupid prat, you can't keep me from studying, and you aren't getting your book back either! You wouldn't have any use for it anyway! It would just sit on a shelf and rot. Then again, maybe they set preserving charms on them. Oh, I hope so because some of those volumes haven't been seen in thousands of years, and I'd hate to pick up one and have it fall apart in my hands. Ugh, what am I saying? Get a grip, Harry. You aren't allowed back in his library, no matter how much it hurts to think that it's his. What the hell does he need with a library anyway? Even if they weren't Dark Arts books, they would still just waste away in his possession. He could care less about books, or the valuable rare knowledge contained within.' Harry raged, making her way all the way up to the attic, where she had heard at breakfast that Buckbeak was. At least she would have some privacy there. Damn, she really hated her godfather right now though.

With a huff, she pulled open a door, lighting her wand and looking about the room. Buckbeak was sleeping in the corner, but awoke at the beam of light from the wand. Harry quickly lit the lanterns around and put out her wand, bowing low to Buckbeak, who eventually bowed back. She went over and patted him a few times before settling herself in a corner where she spread out her magical senses and took out the shrunken book, muttering _'engorgio'_ and enlarging the book back to its original size. She opened it and finally continued her reading on the theory of mind arts, and eventually her magical sense grew to envelop the whole of Grimmauld place. She could feel Buckbeak beside her, one floor below where the Ron, Sirius, and Remus slept, although only Ron was sleeping up there at the moment, and below that, the floor where the two girls were sleeping, and the same floor where Molly and Arthur slept, although they weren't in bed either. Then, she could feel the first floor, where something odd was creeping somewhere near the boiler in the kitchen, and in the dining room part of the kitchen, she could feel roughly twenty people.

Not all of the Order was there. It was an important enough meeting to be called this late, but some were missing. Had something happened? She shook her head. She was letting her mind wander, which was dangerous when practicing the Mind Arts. She took a deep breath and focused again, building her mental wall while organizing her memories and the emotions that went with them so she could throw whatever she wanted to the forefront of her mind right away if someone used Legilimency on her. She was definitely not a master yet; if anyone knew that she'd had a shield up they would most likely be able to find the weak point and break through, and she needed to work on fortifying it. The only problem was, she had no one to work with who could test her shields and attack her mind. She was _not_ going to ask Dumbledore. The fact that she was practicing what they consider Dark Arts would be kept to herself because otherwise every prejudice idiot out there would think she was turning evil, and that was so _not_ true. Just because she was practicing Dark Arts, it didn't mean she still wasn't on the side of Light, or as they should say, good.

She yawned and stood up, shrinking her book back down after marking her page and putting it back in a pocket. She lit her wand and went back down into her room to grab a change of clothes. She needed a shower, and if she took it at almost 2 a.m. then that was just more time in the shower for her. She stowed the shrunken book in the bottom back right corner of her trunk and pulled out a change of clothing, covering the shrunken book as best she could before closing the trunk. She crept back out of the room and closed the door quietly, and on the way to the loo, she bumped into none other than her petulant godfather. He apologized and she ignored him and walked past him and into the loo, locking the door behind her and lighting the lanterns around the room with her wand. She set her clothes out and started to strip down, setting her wand on the side of the sink. When she stripped all the way down, she got into the shower and washed herself methodically, from top to bottom, excluding her hair. After that, she washed her hair, which annoyingly clung to her body when wet and reached down to her mid back, and after she washed it, she applied the conditioner and let it sit for awhile.

After she rinsed it out, she got out and took one of the huge fluffy towels hanging from a rack beside the tub and started to dry herself off with it. She toweled her hair first, leaving it a bit damp, and proceeded with the rest of her body. When she was done, she dressed in her clothes, but they just didn't feel quite right anymore. She needed some new ones, and she needed some witches robes for Hogwarts anyway. She would have to ask if someone could take her out to Diagon Alley so she could get more gold from Gringotts and get refitted for some muggle clothing and some school robes. She hadn't had new ones since first year anyway, and hers were getting a little short. She was surprised she hadn't gotten shorter, and if she had, she didn't notice, though she guessed she shouldn't be with the years of malnourishment. If anything, she might have gotten taller because of it, and that would be mortifying. Imagine being a bloke and being almost full grown and still being shorter than your mum! What a drag. She sighed and stretched, picking up her wand from the sink. She hoped that Sirius had gone to bed and that the Order was done with whatever they were doing, because she was hungry.

She looked down the stairs and the kitchen light was still on, so she extended her magical senses. There were only half a dozen people left in the kitchen, and Sirius wasn't in his room, so he must be one of them. She swore quietly. There was no way she was going down there with him there no matter how hungry she was. She turned to go back into her room, but before she could take a step she felt something cold pass through her and her breath froze in her lungs. She sunk down to the floor, the cold coalescing in her chest and spreading from there to freeze her limbs while she fought to try to breathe. She was almost to the point of panic when she couldn't draw breath, and as she stood, her only thought was to get help. She stumbled her way down the stairs and toward the kitchen door. Surely one of them would help her, right? She looked down at her arm as the cold progressed down it, and the skin was turning blue, weather from the temperature or lack of oxygen, she didn't know, but she hurried herself onward as she reached the bottom landing, stumbling and falling forward just in front of the door. She struggled to her feet and fumbled for the knob, her hands shaking and her fingers becoming numb.

Her head was starting to swim. How long had it been since she had been able to draw breath? She finally grasped the door handle with both hands and stumbled inside, falling to her knees.

"Harry dear, what's wrong?" Molly asked, and Harry looked up at her, pointing to her throat. Molly gasped and Dumbledore was on his feet right away, striding toward her. She felt him brush her mind briefly, and he must have seen what he wanted, because he pointed his wand at her and cast something nonverbally, and suddenly she was able to breathe again, and she was gasping for air. "Oh Harry, what happened? Were you touching those cursed books?" Molly asked, coming over to hug her. Harry shook her head. She didn't have her breath back well enough to answer yet. When she finally did, she spoke.

"Thanks Professor." She croaked, looking at Dumbledore.

"You're quite welcome, Harry. I must say it would have been a shame had something happened to you. It was lucky we were still up and that you could make it here. But I must ask, do you know what did happen to you? And what is this about cursed books?" he asked, his eyes twinkling as usual.

"I've no idea what happened, Professor. I was at the top of the stairs, just coming out of the loo, and I felt something cold pass through me. And…this cold feeling sort of stayed in my chest, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. I felt it spreading from my chest and I saw the kitchen light on so I was hoping someone was here. I got lucky." Harry said, shuddering. "And the library has some cursed books that only a Black can touch, and if anyone else does, the book sets a deadly curse on them. At least, that's what he says." She said, pointing at Sirius but refusing to look at him.

"It's the truth, Harry, and you aren't going near the library again. I don't want you near those books." Sirius said, and Harry glared at him while Remus looked helplessly between the two and Snape sat back, mildly amused. Remus had already heard this conversation, and he knew where it was going.

"Okay. I won't. And when I can't turn in my summer homework, who's going to be the one to blame? I didn't know you were going to lock the library when I left my bag in there, you great prat. Besides that fact, I wasn't touching any of the dangerous books. Why don't you try using your eyes and your brain before you start assuming things." Harry said heatedly, ignoring the gasps from Molly and her husband.

"Don't start taking that tone with me. I am your godfather, and you will do as I say. Stop acting like a child!" Sirius said, and Harry laughed.

"Really, you're my godfather? Since when? Where were you when mum and dad were killed and I was sitting alone in a destroyed house? Oh yeah, that's right, off trying to kill Pettigrew. Where were you when I could have been raised in a somewhat loving environment instead of raised as a house elf by bloody muggles? Oh, that's right, you were in _prison_ because you decided that revenge was worth more to you than me! So excuse me if I don't see you as someone that should have authority over me! I'm fifteen, Sirius. I'm _supposed_ to act like a teenager! What's _your_ excuse?" Harry shouted, glaring at her godfather with every bit of anger she'd built on him over the past two days. Molly was staring in shock, Remus looked thoughtful, Dumbledore was just looking between the two with a somewhat disapproving look on his face, Arthur looked somewhat like his wife, and Snape looked suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh. Sirius, however, returned her glare full force. Harry narrowed her eyes at him.

"You know what, just stay out of my way while I'm here, and I'll be sure to stay out of yours. We can endure until the holidays are over, I'm sure. After that, you never have to speak to me again." Harry said, and with that she turned and marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs, making it almost to the bedroom before she slammed her fist into the wall in anger. It barely hurt, so she did it again and again and again until her knuckles were swollen and bleeding and she forgot about how pissed off she was at Sirius for a little while in lieu of concentrating on her possibly broken hand. She touched the skin gingerly, hissing in pain when she did. She decided to just go try and sleep some more. Her hand would heal anyway. Her wounds always eventually healed by themselves. She wasn't physically tired, but she was definitely emotionally tired. She plopped down on her bed, holding her still injured hand off to the side as she fell into a fitful sleep. She didn't awaken until she felt someone handling her hand.

"Harry, what did you do to your hand?" Hermione murmured, looking at it and tsking.

"Punched a wall." Harry mumbled and Hermione jumped and dropped her hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You startled me. But why would you do that, Harry?" she asked, taking Harry's hand and examining it again.

"I was mad and I just did it. I wasn't thinking." Harry said, and she hissed as Hermione touched the skin.

"Sorry. I'm checking the damage to see if a simple healing spell will heal the damage." She said, and Harry smiled gratefully.

"Thanks, 'Mione. Oh, could you teach me that copy spell today, or at least the theory?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, after we do a bit more research in the library." Hermione said, and Harry cringed.

"Oh, sorry. Did I hurt you again?" she asked, and Harry shook her head.

"No, it's just…Sirius closed off the library last night and then we got into this huge fight about it in front of the Weasleys, Remus, Dumbledore, and Snape. He said I was acting childish and I returned the sentiment and I told him not to talk to me ever again. That's why I got mad." Harry said, her face turning red as she turned away from her friend.

"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry. I know how much Siri means to you, and I wish you two wouldn't fight, but I'll admit he was acting rather childish yesterday. I hope you two make up." Hermione said, and Harry couldn't agree with her. She didn't know what she wanted anymore, but it definitely wasn't to be bossed around by a grown man who still thought he was a damned teenager. Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at Harry's hand.

"_Episkey_." She murmured, and the flesh healed itself, though there were tiny scars everywhere where the skin had torn. "Sorry, it's the best I could do." She said, and Harry shook her head.

"That's fine, 'Mione, thanks. The scars don't matter. Now I don't have to go to someone else to do it, and I have something to remind me." Harry said, murmuring the last part.

"To…remind you? Of what, Harry?" Hermione asked, and Harry just shook her head.

"It's not important, 'Mione. So, do you want to start on that theory now?" Harry asked, and Hermione's face lit up like a Christmas tree. While Hermione was digging things out of her trunk, Harry looked at the scarring on her hand and smiled sadly.

'To remind me that not all family can be trusted.' She thought before Hermione returned to Harry's bed and set an armload of stuff on it.

"What are those books for?" Harry asked, pointing to a pile of three large books she had brought over.

"Those are for later in the lesson. They're books I've copied from the originals and I want you to eventually study the residual magic left on them so you can learn to identify this spell by how the magic feels. Any copied book keeps that residual magic for about ten years, and it is therefore easy to tell if the book is a magical copy or the original if the book was made within the last decade." Hermione said, and Harry smiled.

"You've really thought of everything, haven't you 'Mione." Harry said, and Hermione smiled.

"I tried. Oh, and you missed breakfast, and Molly says if you aren't down for lunch she's going to summon you down whether you're sleeping or not and use a sticking charm on your bum to keep you in your chair until you eat as much as she wants you to." Hermione said with a smile, and Harry laughed.

"I'll be down. God forbid I be fed like a baby." Harry said, and Hermione laughed with her. When the laughter died down, Harry cast _tempus_ and noted that it was just nearing 11 a.m.

"We have about an hour then. Let's get down to the start of the basic theory." Hermione said, and so for the next hour, Hermione went over the basic theory of the copying charm and its many uses with Harry, and when Hermione cast the _tempus_ this time, she noted it was a little past 12 p.m. They left everything where it was for now and went down to lunch. All through lunch, Harry and Sirius, though they spoke to other people, ignored each other. Therefore, when the inevitable question came of when they were going to get back to studying Harry's problem, Harry relished answering.

"So, when are we going to get back to the library and look for what happened to you?" Ron asked, and Harry glared at Sirius before answering.

"We aren't." Harry said shortly, and that was followed by several "What's? Harry repeated herself.

"Why?" Ginny asked, and Harry sighed.

"Because apparently it's too dangerous for me to be in a bloody library." Harry said, glaring at Sirius again before turning away from him.

"So why can't we just go?" Fred said, and both Harry and Sirius answered him at once.

"Because you don't know which books will curse you." Harry said.

"Because no one is allowed in." Sirius said. They refused to look at each other, and Harry stood up.

"I'll be in our room studying. Come and join me if you want when you're finished, 'Mione." Harry said, and with that she left the kitchen. She was going to find a way to avoid mealtimes with the git if it killed her. She just remembered that she still hadn't asked anyone to go to Diagon Alley with her, so she turned around. She figured since she was supposed to be related to them, the Weasleys might want to take her. She went back into the kitchen and stood beside Molly.

"Was there something you wanted, dear?" Molly asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yes, actually. I wanted to know if you could ask Professor Dumbledore if I would be allowed to go to Diagon Alley with an escort? I need to get refitted for robes and some muggle clothing as well." Harry said, and Molly nodded.

"Yes, I'll owl him after I get the kitchen cleaned up. Any requests for a specific escort dear?" Molly asked, and Harry shook her head.

"No, as long as it isn't Snape or Black." Harry said, figuring that she may as well start referring to the git by his surname. Molly looked put out for a moment, but then she recovered.

"Okay dear. Off you go then. Go study." She said, and Harry obeyed, not bothering to see the affect she may have made with her statement at the table. When she got back up to her room, she took the Mind Arts book out of her trunk and read a bit more while she waited for Hermione to get back up here. She was surprised when someone knocked, and she quickly shrunk the book and hid it under her pillow. When she called for whoever it was to enter, she was surprised and then angry to see it was the git.

"What do you want?" Harry asked coldly, not getting up from the bed but subtly grabbing her wand in her pocket. She wasn't above hexing him and she may not have his reflexes but he was a bigger target.

"Is this really how it's going to be, Harry?" Black asked, looking pained. Harry snorted.

"Yes, _Black_, this _is_ how it's going to be. Everything I said last night is true including the fact that after I leave here, we never have to speak again. I'm done with you." Harry said, scowling.

"Harry, all this over a library? I thought we were like brothers." Black said, and Harry shook her head.

"No, Black. _Ron_ is my brother. Besides that, I didn't _need_ a brother growing up. I needed a family, and that's obviously something that didn't occur to you. I guess I must not have been that important." Harry said, and then she continued. "Besides that, this isn't just over the library. It's about you being prejudice against the Dark Arts. You just don't get it. Maybe if you would even read the introduction to the book that _your_ ancestor wrote, you might understand it better. The fact is, you're either too stupid or too stubborn to do so, but I honestly think it's the latter. It's also the fact that you don't seem to get that with some of that knowledge, we may just be able to _beat_ Voldemort, instead of hiding from him like we are now. That is multiple millennia worth of _useful_ knowledge. It could be useful to _us_, but no! You're too afraid because _most_ of that magic is more powerful than the kind you learned, so it _must_ be evil! Well let me tell you something! One, dark magic does _not_ taint the mind. Two, dark is _not_ synonymous with evil! Three, the only reason the Dark Arts are addictive to anyone is if they are addicted to the _power_ that they hold! That's it!

"Voldemort is evil because that's what the circumstances of his life led him to be. He's insane for the same reason. It has nothing to do with the fact that he uses the Dark Arts. He's just addicted to the power they can give him. Dark magic is based on intent. Think about it. What if someone were suffering and they couldn't be healed, and they spent every day in agony, begging you to take their life? Say you used Avada Kedavra. It's a painless death for them and you just showed them a huge mercy. I've even read about the Unforgivables. It doesn't have to be hatred behind the spell to make it work. That's a myth propagated by the side of evil because that's the only emotion besides anger and occasional happiness that Voldemort knows. The side of '_Light_' needs to get its head out of its arse and start using what works and _not_ only what it thinks is morally right! We want to _win_, not play bloody chess! This isn't about the Light versus the Dark! This is about Good versus Evil, and that's all there is to it! Voldemort versus the bloody world, and _that's_ what we need to save!

"If you 'Light Wizards' won't do what it takes to win, then so help me I will, and I will not let _anyone_ stand in my way!" Harry said viciously, her magic ripping around her in a dangerous current by the end of her rant. She was breathing heavily and shaking with rage by the time she was finished speaking. Sirius, his mouth hanging open, backed away from the frankly terrifying sight. Maybe it was best not to piss his godchild off to such an extent. Harry looked about ready to strangle him, forget the wands, and he wasn't about to let his throat near those hands. As suddenly as it had come, though, the magic vanished back into Harry as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. When she opened them, she looked at Sirius calmly. "Now, leave." Harry said, and Sirius wasn't going to argue with her. He backed out of the doorway and made it to the kitchen as fast as he could without waking the portrait of his mum. Hurrying over to the table, he grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and quickly penned a note to Albus, asking Molly if he could borrow Errol.

When he told her he had asked Albus to come and speak to him as soon as possible, she agreed. She could ask him about Harry's possible trip to Diagon Alley then. Sirius knew he had to tell Albus about what he had seen in Harry's bedroom, and after he sent Errol off with a plea to hurry, he paced around the kitchen, trying to think of how best to phrase what had happened there. Especially Harry's speech. It meant one thing in his mind. Harry was going dark, and he had to stop it. He paced frantically, and when Molly asked him what was wrong, he told her it would be explained when Albus got here. He had been pacing for almost a half an hour when the floo flared and Albus stepped into the kitchen. Sirius quickly cleared the kitchen, asking the various occupants besides Remus, Albus, and Molly to clear out to different parts of the house. He then cast silencing and locking charms on the door after making sure that Kreacher was in some other part of the house and nowhere in the kitchen.

"Okay my boy. What is this all about, and why on earth did you need my pensieve?" Albus asked, and Sirius replied quickly.

"Please, Albus. It's better if you just see; you as well, Molly, Remus. You all need to know the current situation. Please Albus, set the pensieve down on the table so I can put the memory in it." Sirius said, and the headmaster complied. Sirius thought specifically of only that memory, nonverbally cast the memory extraction spell, held the wand to his temple, and slowly extracted it, pulling on it until the small, silver thread broke free and hung loose. Then, he lowered it into the pensieve and prodded the surface of the memory. "Go ahead; you really need to see this." Sirius said, and Molly and Remus went around the table to stand by the headmaster. As one, they all dipped their faces into the memory and Sirius waited anxiously while they watched it. He had concentrated it from the moment he had entered the room until the moment he had left. After a few minutes, the three stood back up. Dumbledore looked pensive, Molly was white-faced, and Remus looked concerned. Sirius helped Molly to a seat to a seat.

"Is that…really what she _thinks_?" Molly asked, looking back and forth between the three of them as if they might have the answer.

"I think I may just go have a talk with Harry." Albus said, and Sirius looked at him like he was crazy.

"Albus, surely you must be joking? You think it's _really_ a good idea to try to reason with her when she's like that?" Sirius asked, wide eyed.

"Quite, my dear boy. You see, she is angry, first and foremost, with you, not me. Therefore, I think it would be quite safe for me. You, on the other hand, she is extremely angry at. I would suggest staying out of the sight of your godchild unless you want to have to hex her, or let her hex you." Dumbledore said pleasantly, and then left the kitchen to talk to Harry like he had said he was going to. Sirius plopped down into a chair and Remus sat down beside him. Sirius sighed.

"I don't know if we'll ever get past this. She really seems like she never wants to talk to me again." Sirius said, and Remus shook his head sadly. It hurt him to see his friend this way.

"I wish that I could help you, my friend, but this is something you must work out between yourselves." Remus said, rubbing Sirius' back to try to reassure him. Really, the only thing that concerned him besides the fact that Harry and Sirius were not on speaking terms anymore was the last statement that Harry made. Harry said he would do what he had to do, and that he wouldn't let anyone stand in his way. Remus saw what he knew was only a taste of Harry's power, so the question was, what _was_ she capable of? He had no problem with Harry using dark magic. He knew himself what kind of power dark spells held, and he knew that dark did not mean evil. He was considered a dark creature, after all, and he was definitely _not_ evil. He wished that Sirius could let go of his prejudices, but there was little chance of that; especially with the kind of family Sirius was forced to grow up in. He hated everything that associated him with his dark pureblood heritage, and he therefore became a very opinionated and prejudice light wizard to spite his family.

The only real problem they faced, it seemed, was trying to reason with Harry, and trying to get Sirius to _not_ make an enemy out of his godchild, because frankly, from what they all just saw, that was a very bad idea. Remus sighed while Molly shakily got up to make some tea. He really wished sometimes that his friend wouldn't be so damned thick.

End Ch

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**A/N:** Just a little forewarning. The fifth chapter might be a little bit in coming. I keep getting new ideas and I keep wanting to write on those instead. I'll keep on it as much as possible.

**A/N 2:** The 5 chappy is almost done, so just hold your horses people. And about the self-healing thing; you'll find out next chapter. Oh, just a warning. Angst coming up. Just thought I'd warn you all. Btw, for anyone who will inevitably complain about Harry being moody next chapter, I would like to point out that Harry is now a FEMALE, having been transformed into such from a MALE, and hence her hormones will need time to rebalance themselves, hence Harry will seem OOC. She's going to be a bit OOC anyway, eventually, seeing as this is a fan fiction and I'm writing it how I wish to write it. Oh, and on another note, I've decided to stop answering reviews right in the story, as apparently posting someone's screen name in your story gets you in trouble or some other such nonsense. I'll reply to any reviews I'm going to reply to via messaging.


	5. Mental Transitions

**A/N:** Okay, I'm going to say this right off. Don't get all pissy at me about the mood swings or the mentions of abuse. Think about this logically; Harry stated, in the books, that he learned to stay out of arms reach of Vernon. What does that tell you? Not to mention the fact that in the books, once again, it mentions something about Petunia hitting Harry with a frying pan or at least attempting to. Somehow, I don't think these are just isolated incidents. I think he really was abused and Rowling just didn't want to completely illustrate that. As for the things Harry mentally obsesses about, particularly near the end of the chapter, he/she's a bit OCD and if you'll think about it, has had these ideas beaten into her head ever since she can remember. Things like that stick with a person, and Harry is indeed a person. As for the Hero complex, I've put in an explanation for it that makes sense to me that I thought of on a spur of the moment. It would make sense for someone produced by her upbringing to think in such a way, and this explanation satisfies me. As for the Alice in Wonderland thing, that too was spur of the moment, and I just started thinking about the small similarities as I was writing that paragraph about Harry's favorite childhood story. Anyway, go on. Get on with reading. I've made you all wait long enough for the update. I hope you're all happy that I stayed up until almost four in the morning to finish this chapter. In fact it's 3:57 am right now where I am. Agh! Getting off track. Anyway, review, bitch, complain, compliment. Whatever you think my work deserves. Love to all and thanks for reading.

**A/N 2:** Agh, I decided to read through it online to see if I could spot any mistakes and I forgot that automatically blanks asterisks. I use those for my dividers to show that time has passed, so I'll just have to pay attention to where those spots are and use lines instead. Btw, as for all the contradictory things, and especially Lord Voldemort thinking that Harry doesn't have a Hero complex when I essentially state specifically that she does think about saving people later in the chapter, chalk it up to Harry's mood swings and personality changes. No one would feel like saving people all of the time, and in this case it's not so much a complex as a way for Harry to try to gain love for herself in the only way she's been shown that works, even if only in fictional writings. The Dark Lord happens to catch Harry when she doesn't want anything to do with saving people. You will find she changes her mind quite a bit in my story, but that's because she's a bit mad. Yes, I said that truthfully. She's a bit mad. With the life she's had so far, and the graveyard incident, and her using pain to escape pain, she's gone around the bend a bit, but not enough for anyone to notice yet. I'm not sure if I'll progress this or not. I always like my characters a bit mad, and I have wanted to write a fic where Harry just goes completely bonkers, but this is not the fic I want it in. This is going in another direction entirely and I can't have a completely mad Harry for the vague idea I have to work out. Anyway, sorry about the long second authors note. Agh, I'm tired and I keep finding discrepancies that I come in to fix right away. Maybe I should think about getting a beta...Love to all and thanks for reading.

**A/N 3:** I know you're probably getting annoyed with me by now with all the author's notes, but I keep needing to add things. It isn't my fault okay? Okay, so it is, but…anyway, a reviewer (who is totally awesome, thank you Luna-chan926) pointed out a HUGE discrepancy which I really needed to fix, so here is the fixed chapter, not changed too much since it was only really a few sentences. Hopefully my frankenstiened version of this chapter didn't disrupt the flow of the original chapter here, but we'll see. I didn't think it did. Anyway, Love to all, thanks for reading and especially for reviewing. It makes my day. :3

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**Ch. 5: Mental Transitions**

Harry sat there reading _The Mind Arts_, but she couldn't for the life of her actually concentrate. She attempted to read the same sentence at least six times before she gave up. She was just too frustrated at the moment to focus, and if she couldn't focus, she couldn't practice. With a sigh, she put the book back away and sat down on her bed with her head in her hands. She was getting sick and tired of Sirius trying to act like her guardian when he had no legal or practical right to. He had no say in what she did, though she guessed he _did_ have a say in which rooms she was allowed to enter, as it _was_ his house. As much as she hated to admit it, he could very well tell her where she could and couldn't go within the boundaries of these walls. What he _couldn't_ do, on the other hand, was dictate _how_ Harry spent her time, though that was exactly what he _had_ been trying to do the other day when they had that argument in the library and the library had locked everyone else out of it. She was almost sad not to be able to enter the place again.

She felt so relaxed and serene in there, and at the same time energized. She had never felt anything like it, and now it seemed likely that she never would again. She got brief flashes of those feelings when she held the one book she had from the library, but as they were only brief, she still felt the sadness creeping up on her, dragging her mood down. She hated Black for taking that from her; he obviously felt something else entirely from the room, and so he couldn't understand what exactly he had taken from her, but that was still no excuse. Why did he have to take away the one thing that was helping her at the moment? Without the library calming her down, her darker thoughts were starting to creep up on her, and it was pushing her deeper and deeper into a morbid train of thought. She was untrained. She was only 15. How was she going to beat him? Voldemort was powerful, and he had been alive for just under seventy years. She was in school and he had been out for over fifty years and researching deeper and deeper into the dark arts, and long lost magical knowledge.

She felt so helpless. She felt like she just wanted to curl up and leave the world be. Let it go on by itself. Give up, and not have to worry about something that she couldn't be expected to do anyway. Why would anyone care? It wasn't like she was fated to fight him or anything. He just kept coming after her, and each time she had barely escaped with her life. Why did he want her dead so badly? It couldn't be just to finish the job in the first place, right? Was it revenge, or was she missing something? Was there some other reason she just happened to cross paths with him three times already, all ending with him wanting to kill her, and almost succeeding? She sighed. Speculation was pointless at this point in time, but she couldn't help it. She felt so low right now. God, what she would give to be able to stop everything. As much as she wanted to take Voldemort down and save the world, it all seemed so far away at this point; unreachable, unattainable, and pointless. She kept having contradictory thoughts as thus. She knew what needed to be done, and the ideal. Voldemort dead, the war stopped, and the world saved, but she didn't want to do it.

She didn't want to have to fight. She knew that she would die the next time she faced him, and she couldn't handle that. She didn't want to die. She wanted to live, and go to school, and talk to her friends, and worry about school work and exams. She didn't want to fight tooth and nail for her life. The adults could do what they were supposed to do and protect them, right? She was scared of him, and his Death Eaters, and she just wished Voldemort had never touched her life. Merlin, why couldn't she just be normal? Why couldn't she be with her mother and father right now, ignoring the war and just goofing around like a teenager was supposed to be able to do? She lay down and curled into a fetal position, holding her head in her hands. She took deep, sobbing breaths as she tried in vain not to think about everything that she could have had; everything that had been taken from her by the enemy of the world. She really was pathetic, she supposed. She had just been telling Black earlier that she would use the Dark Arts to beat Voldemort, but now she wasn't sure.

Really, it wasn't even her fight. Dumbledore was the one that it was rumored he always feared. She couldn't make a difference, so the only real reason for her learning the Dark Arts was if she ever needed it. The problem was, Voldemort knew so much more. Somehow, she knew that he had all this…knowledge that had been lost for centuries. Things that others wouldn't even believe existed anymore; things that had been lost to time for too many, and were no longer widely known. Hell, he probably knew everything that was written in the books in the Black library, and if not, then he knew most of it. It was almost…alluring, in a way. To think that one man held all these ancient secrets of magic; not that he would share any of them, but the man was a treasury of knowledge, and as powerful as he already was magically, the knowledge made him near invincible if he wasn't already. Knowledge was power; that was what Arthemitius Black had said, and it really was the truth. Anyone could tell you that, and you could tell that Voldemort subscribed to that belief as well.

If she could only meet him…ask him some questions. No! What the hell was she thinking? That was a dangerous train of thought. She shook her head within her hands, trying to clear it of such thoughts.

* * *

At the same time, hundreds of miles away, Lord Voldemort was given something to think about. So, Potter was attracted to knowledge and power, both of which he had in copious amounts. And more curiosities; Potter was referring to himself as a she, he was studying the dark arts, and he was afraid of him after the graveyard incident. All of these subjects boded thinking about on a much grander scale before he executed his next move, because depending on how he played this, the war may just change for the better for his side. Potter didn't want to fight him; he was deathly afraid of doing so, it seemed, and was looking at things in a largely realistic manner. He knew he would never defeat him. He knew The Dark Lord was too smart and too powerful to be defeated by an untrained teen. And then there was the other oddity. There was no way he knew about the prophecy. There was absolutely nothing in his mind about it.

The brat was nothing like he thought he would be. He thought that because of all the flukes, because of everything Dumbledore had set up for the boy to overcome during his years at Hogwarts, that the child would have a Hero complex, but that was not the case. In fact, he just seemed like a normal teenager, except for the fact that he was thinking of himself as a she, which was still a curiosity. And then there was his affinity for the Dark Arts, and his seeming love of knowledge. It was funny, because that wasn't the vibe he had gotten from the teen at first. The teen, in fact, had seemed like nothing more than a stereotypical Gryffindor Quidditch jock, but he was different now. Something had happened to him, and his mind was definitely working differently from the last time they had met in the graveyard in Little Hangleton. He was more focused, more morbid, and as hungry for knowledge as he himself once was; still was, at that. It was almost as if he were a different person.

Something had happened to the boy, and it bothered him that he didn't know. Something had changed him, seemingly permanently. He was much more…Slytherin. He was thinking about self-preservation over some heroic Gryffindor stupidity that he might have been thinking about before whatever happened. Whatever it was that had caused the transition, though, was going to be uncovered. He _would_ know, and then he would use it to his advantage.

* * *

Harry looked up, wiping her eyes as she heard a knock at the door. She really didn't want to have to deal with anyone right now. She glared at the door, but of course the person just kept knocking. She laid down and turned away from the door. She didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment.

"Harry. Do you mind if I come in? I would like a few minutes of your time, if you please." She heard Dumbledore say through the door. She was tempted to just tell him to go away, but she still needed his permission to go to Diagon Alley so she could replace her clothes.

"Come in." she said with a sigh. She sat up again and quickly wiped her eyes before the door opened. She scooted back so her back was to the headboard and stared at the old man as he came through the door.

"Harry, my dear. Are you quite alright? Sirius told me about the fight you two had." He said, and Harry just stared at him.

"I'm fine sir." She said dully, not taking her eyes off him but not staring him in the eyes either. After a minute of silence, Harry decided to voice her request.

"Professor, I don't know if Molly told you or not, but I had wanted to know if I could go to Diagon Alley to replace my clothing? With an escort, of course, though I request that it isn't Black or Snape." Harry said, and Dumbledore smiled.

"Professor Snape, Harry, and I don't see why not. I will arrange for a few Aurors from the Order to escort you, and all of you can pick up your school things early while you're out. I'll have a list of what is needed to Molly by tonight, and you can all go tomorrow. How does that sound?" Dumbledore asked kindly, and Harry smiled.

"Brilliant! Thanks Professor. I…er, also wondered if you could ask Black if he could unlock his library just long enough for someone to retrieve my book bag. I really don't want to ask him myself, sir." Harry said, embarrassed.

"I'll ask him Harry, but I beg you to make up with him before you leave for Hogwarts. Family is very important right now, and you can't afford to be estranged because of small differences in opinion, Harry." Dumbledore said, and Harry's anger flared up right away.

"It isn't my fault that I don't like him anymore, Professor! He's standing in the way of my study, and he's being a bloody baby! He has something against Dark Magic, so he's impeding _my_ progress so he can try to stop me from learning it! Magic is magic, and whether he sees it or not, he's keeping me from being able to defend myself if I need to! This is Black's fault, and I won't apologize to him for something I didn't do wrong!" Harry said fiercely, her anger clear in her eyes and voice. Dumbledore looked sad at these words.

"Very well. I can only hope that if Sirius ever does decide to apologize, that you'll accept it, Harry. Good day." He said, and with that he left, closing the door behind him. Harry sighed and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself again. It wouldn't do to destroy the room she was staying in with wild magic, and who knows what kind of ancient curse she could release from the walls or objects around here. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she sat back down trying to clear her mind. When she had only just succeeded another knock sounded at the door.

'I swear to Merlin, if that's Sirius for _any_ reason I am going to hex the hell out of him.' Harry thought as a knock sounded once more.

"Come in!" she said, and stayed where she was though she grabbed her wand in case it was Sirius. It was, as it turned out, Hermione, whose face was red for some reason.

"Harry…I…well, Mrs. Weasley pulled me aside and asked me to, ah…well, lend you some…undergarments." She said awkwardly, her face becoming even more red if it were possible. Harry blinked. Undergarments? Oh!

"Underwear? Why? My pants are just fine for now. I can get ones that fit better when we go shopping tomorrow." Harry said, and Hermione shut the door behind her.

"Harry," she groaned, putting her face in her hands to hide it, which caused her voice to be muffled but still audible. "She wants me to lend you a bra or two until we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. It just occurred to Mrs. Weasley earlier today that you wouldn't have any bras, and therefore wouldn't be wearing one as a lady should be. That led to her pulling me to one side to ask. Now, if we're done talking about it, we can see if mine will fit you." She said, and though she had pulled her face out of her hands, she was still blushing. She quickly went over to her trunk to grab one out and Harry sat stupefied on her bed. It took Hermione waving the bra in her face to get her attention again. "Here, try this on and we'll see if it fits." She said, handing Harry the bra, who promptly dropped it and back away from it as if it were something disgusting.

"W-what?" She asked in a high pitched voice, staring at it as if it was going to come to life and try to eat her.

"Oh for the love of Merlin, Harry! It's just a bra! Like it or not, you _are_ a female right now, and as such, you need to wear _female_ clothing, and that includes the undergarments. You don't want guys staring at you even more for not wearing one, do you?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"No! But…I dunno, I just hadn't thought of it." She said, and she moved forward to pick up the bra gingerly. It was pink with white lace on it. "Does it have to be so…girly?" she asked in disgust, and Hermione harrumphed and glared at him.

"The ones I have are all girly, and I don't know your size so I can't transfigure you a different one. Just try it on, and if we're the same size I can use this one as a base and transfigure something else into one that's much less girly for you. Happy?" She asked, and Harry looked at it again before nodding. Harry looked pointedly between her and the door, and when she didn't move, Harry decided to just ask her to leave.

"Can you…leave the room Hermione?" she asked, and Hermione sighed.

"Harry, like it or not, you're going to have to get used to changing in front of other girls. It's going to happen sooner or later weather you like it or not. You can't exactly lock all the other girls out of the bathroom while you change in the morning, because you would cause a riot. Parvati and Lavender in particular get very cranky when they can't apply makeup right away in the morning. The stalls in the bathrooms themselves are too small to change in, so you can't do that. The point is, you haven't got anything we haven't seen, and it isn't like anyone is going to be staring." Hermione said, and Harry spoke without thinking.

"That's even if I'm sorted back into Gryffindor." She said, and by the look on Hermione's face, this wasn't what the other girl had been expecting at all.

"Why wouldn't you be sorted back into Gryffindor, Harry? You couldn't have changed that much since first year." She said, and Harry shook her head.

"That's what I'm afraid of, Hermione. I…" Harry stopped. She had never told any of her friends that the hat had almost put her in Slytherin, but if anyone could understand and not judge her for it, it would be Hermione, right? "The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin." She whispered, hoping to Merlin her friend wouldn't freak out. Hermione blinked, but did nothing else besides speak.

"Harry, do you think that matters to me? Slytherin is just a house. It's you, your personality, that makes me like you. Now I admit we may have never been friends if you were in Slytherin in the first place, but only because the same circumstances under which we became friends would never have come to pass. You might never have known me besides that initial introduction on the train, and you would probably never have come to save me from the troll because you wouldn't have known I had been in the bathroom crying. The point is, Harry, we're friends no matter what house you might be sorted into come September. Okay?" She asked, and Harry nodded, smiling. She was embarrassed to note that her eyes were stinging as well, and she blinked them a few times to keep from succumbing to embarrassing tears.

"Thanks Hermione." Harry said quietly, smiling. Hermione smiled back.

"Now, hurry up and take your shirt off so I can help show you how to put that bra on. I'm not showing you on me, because despite the fact that I'm going to have to get used to getting dressed in front of you as well, it's going to take some getting used to. I know you still have a male mind." She said, and she and Harry laughed. Finally, with a sigh, Harry complied and Hermione in turn showed him how to put the bra on backward, hook the catches, and turn it around to put it back on. As it turns out, Harry's cup size was bigger than Hermione's, which embarrassed Harry to no end as her, ahem, breasts, were larger than a real girls. Hermione just giggled and took one of Harry's old raggedy hand-me-down shirts out of her trunk to transfigure into a bra for Harry. She made the strap size the same as hers, while making the cup size a size bigger to test it out. She made the bra a plain black one so Harry wouldn't complain. When she handed it to Harry to try on, Harry nodded.

"Much better. No lace or pink." She said, to which Hermione rolled her eyes and waved her to get on with trying it on. It fit perfectly and Hermione smiled, while Harry kept adjusting it.

"You'll have to get used to the feeling, since you've never had to wear one before. I would suggest leaving it on all day until you're ready to go to bed. You don't want to walk around the house without a bra or some of the male Weasleys might start to…notice. Particularly Fred and George." Hermione said with a laugh, and Harry rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well I don't exactly want them ogling me when I'm going to be playing their cousin all year, do I? I'll take your advice." Harry assured her, which sent Hermione into giggles again. "You know, you're awfully more giggly then you usually are. What's up?" Harry asked, and Hermione smiled again.

"It's just nice to have a girl my own age to talk to, even if you did used to be a guy. I don't really…talk to any of the girls in my dorm. All they want to talk about is make-up and boys, and none of them take studying seriously, so it's not like I usually have anyone to giggle with." Hermione said with a nonchalant shrug, though Harry could tell that this bothered her more than she let on. Harry smiled warmly at her.

"I'm glad I get to be the person you giggle with then. I just hope you know that you can talk to me about anything Hermione. No matter how long this situation, me being a girl, lasts. I'll always be there for you, you know." She said, pulling Hermione into a hug. Hermione hugged her back tightly, and Harry was about to say something else when Ron burst into the room and ruined the moment.

"Harry, Hermione! Guess what Fred and George-" he stopped in mid-sentence as both turned to stare at him, Harry still being in only a bra and trousers. It only got worse when said boys apparated right into the bedroom, already talking. They only had eyes for Ron though, and Hermione had the sense to throw a shirt on over Harry before the twins could get an eyeful as well.

"Stop-"

"Telling everyone-"

"What happened-"

"You little twit!" Fred and George finished together, finally turning to see two red faced girls and actually noticing that Ron was blushing as well.

"What happened here then?" Fred asked, smirking.

"Did little Ronnie walk in when one of you were changing and get an eyeful?" George asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes, that's exactly what he did, and he should _really_ learn to knock or _I'll_ learn some more painful hexes!" Hermione said with a glare toward the aforementioned redhead. Fred and George look at each other before saying in unison:

"We know plenty of spells like that, and we could teach them all to you for only a small price." Hermione looked at them suspiciously.

"What price?" she asked, and Ron looked at her, horrified.

"You're not serious? It's not like I saw _you_ half naked! It was just Harry, and I've seen that loads of times anyway!" Ron said, and Harry scowled.

"In case you haven't noticed, Ron, I'm a girl now, and I _don't_ appreciate you just walking in while I'm changing. Fred, George, I think I may want to learn those spells as well." Harry said in perfect seriousness, and Ron left the room in a hurry, while Fred and George spoke up again.

"The price for our services," George started.

"Can be discussed later," Fred said.

"When we've found a place that doesn't have so many ears." George finished, looking around pointedly. Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"By the way…I've always wondered," Hermione started, and Fred and George looked at her curiously. "How do you speak like that? How do you know what the other is going to say? You couldn't possibly write everything you say ahead of time. You couldn't know every scenario, and general sentences can only get you so far." She said, and the twins smiled mysteriously.

"It's a twin thing." They said in unison, and with a bow, they both disapparated, most likely to cause mischief elsewhere. Harry laughed, while Hermione grumbled. She hated not being told something she was so curious about.

"I think it's probably a magical twin thing. I've never seen any set of muggle twins that can do that, although admittedly I haven't met very many." Hermione said pensively, while Harry just shrugged and laid back on her bed. She had to wonder just how many things were going to be different this year because she was female. Voldemort couldn't cause her too much trouble, because he didn't know that she was a girl for one, and what she looked like now, for two. That meant that while 'Harry Potter' went into hiding for a year, possibly longer, she may just have a normal year as Lillian Weasley. She frowned. Maybe she should choose another name. Although not many were likely to outright guess what happened to her, the name, along with the looks, for whoever might remember what her mother looked like, might be too much of a giveaway. Maybe someone could lighten the shade of her hair to match the Weasley shade, and she may have to wear colored contacts unless there was a spell to change eye color as well.

With those small changes, it would be a lot harder to connect her looks to Lily Potter's, and similar facial structure, even if it was noticed, could be explained away. The name, though. That had to be changed. She was staying a Weasley, but the first name had to be changed to something much less obvious and connected to her parents. She'd have to talk to Molly and Arthur about it later. While she liked the connection to her parents via name, she couldn't chance it. She frowned. Now that she thought about it, should she really be trying to be as much like her parents as possible anyway? They were obviously light, while she was heading in the other direction, and both had behavior and personalities that were fundamentally different from hers by being raised in a drastically different environment. Theirs were most likely nurturing, while hers was as far from it as one could possibly be.

After all, being forced to work, and then starved at the end of the day, and beaten for things that weren't her fault at random times throughout the years had made her into a very hateful, mistrustful individual, although she hid the hatred and the abuse well. Her magic had healed the worst of the damage, although she hadn't known what it was at the time, and the abuse only got worse the longer she had been at Hogwarts. Even after the threat of Sirius, her Uncle had threatened to hurt her much worse if she didn't write to Sirius and essentially lie to him, all the while still being beaten frequently. She was just lucky that the worst of her bruising had healed by the time she was stupid enough to try that ritual. The situation itself was what had made her so desperate to do something in the first place. In a way, her desire was granted for a short time, but she knew she'd have to go back.

What was even worse was that she didn't know what her Uncle would do when she had to go back if she was still a girl. She didn't want to imagine the worst but the idea had popped up anyway and had made her gag. She thought that if she ever had to go through that, she would probably just slit her wrists and be done with it. She thought about the knife, stashed away in her trunk, wrapped in an old shirt; her potions knife, which she had washed before she used, and wiped clean every time after. Her magic always healed her, and it didn't leave any scars, so she reasoned that it really couldn't be that bad, could it? She hadn't had a bad enough reason to cut here, so the potions knife had stayed where it was for the time being. Still, she thought, her arms were starting to itch, although she knew it was in her mind. Her cuts healed within minutes, and so there were no healing cuts to itch.

No scars to trace. Nothing to remind her that she used pain to take her mind off all of the other pain caused by regular abuse and general self-hatred that had been ingrained into her ever since she could remember. She sighed and turned on her side. Hermione had left the room while she had been within her own thoughts, and had closed to door behind her. With a sigh, she decided to try to let go of her depressed thoughts for now and focus on practicing the Mind Arts. It was a few hours later that anyone even disturbed her. Hermione came in to get her and bring her down for dinner. While they walked, Harry saw the patch of wall she punched that still had a slight dent in it and looked back down at her formerly broken hand. She was annoyed to see that the scars were gone.

'Stupid automatic healing can take care of the ones I want to keep but it can't take care of the stupid one on my forehead. What a surprise.' She thought sarcastically, nearly growling. With a silent sigh, she cleared her mind again and spread out her magical senses to see how many people were here for dinner. There seemed to be a few more than the immediate people that lived here, but Harry just shrugged. Whatever; it was probably just people from the Order anyway that had decided to stay for dinner. Molly's cooking was amazing, after all. With that thought, they headed down the stairs and Harry could already hear conversation coming from the kitchen/dining room. There were at least two voices she didn't recognize, and when she entered the room, she saw that she vaguely recognized two of the Aurors that Dumbledore had managed to convince to join the Order.

One was a black man with a his hair tied back in a long ponytail and an earring in one ear, and the other was a woman who had bright pink hair the last time she saw her, and it was now a turquoise color. Harry wondered if she used some kind of magical hair dye such as a potion or something, and wondered if something like that would work for her, but she decided that on second thought, she'd probably be better off with a spell so that she didn't have to keep dying it. Come to think of it, she may not have to change her hair color as long as she changed her eye color somehow. She'd have to ask about magical optometrists because it was also a chance for her to get not only colored contacts that she needed, but maybe magical ones as well, like maybe something that could see through invisibility cloaks like Moody's eye could, or something like that.

As this thought crossed her mind, she became even more excited about tomorrow, but then the thought of having to think of a name made her excitement dry up. What name could she think of that wouldn't be annoying as hell after a while? Lillian had worked of course, but the fact that it was so close to Lily made it something she'd rather avoid. As she and Hermione sat and dinner was served, she thought more on the subject, barely paying enough attention to her food to keep eating, which is probably why she was turned into a human sized canary about halfway through. When she finally realized she had feathers, she laughed with the others, but then shot Fred and George a look that promised retribution. They just smirked and both tilted their heads up at the same time to accept her challenge non-verbally. Oh, they would pay, and they would do it in Hogwarts, where thousands of students could see.

Harry almost laughed out loud at the thought, but she realized that it would probably come out as slightly evil, so she stifled it into giggles that made those in the vicinity shiver for reasons unknown to them.

'Maybe I could get Hermione to help me. We may even end up being able to give the twins a run for their money. I am the heir of the Marauders, after all. I may even ask Remus and S-NO! I might ask Remus for help but I'm not talking to Black. I have to remember that!' she thought fiercely, if a little unhappily. Sirius was the first real father figure she had had. 'He abandoned me, though. To chase after a traitor. Then he let himself get caught instead of running and taking me with him, or even running and trying to convince the idiots later. He didn't love me enough to put me first; no one ever will.' She reminded herself. 'I've known this for a while. I don't know why it should be affecting me now. I've known what an unlovable freak I am from the moment I could remember anything.' She thought, and the thought wasn't a sad one, but a serious one as if she were telling herself a fact.

To her it was. She had been taught this from the moment she could properly understand English. It had been beaten into her again and again, and she wouldn't soon forget it. It wasn't hard to remember, honestly. She wondered why her friends still hung around her when it was so obvious how unlovable she was. Why didn't they want someone who wasn't a freak? Why weren't they friends with someone who didn't get them into danger every time she decided to do something stupid and save the day in the hopes that someone would finally be able to love her. If she could just be a hero, then everything would be perfect. She wouldn't be an unlovable freak anymore, because everyone loved heroes except the villains. She smiled at the thought. She just needed to do something that would make her a hero. Then someone would love her. She shook away the thought as dinner ended, and only just remembered that she had wanted to talk to Molly before she left the kitchen.

She saw her and headed toward her, weaving her way through the other people that were making their way out of the kitchen. Molly just happened to be standing by the two Aurors who Harry had vaguely recognized earlier. Molly spotted her as she was a few feet from them, and when she reached the trio, Molly made official introductions.

"Harry, these two are Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. They're Aurors and members of the Order, and Professor Dumbledore has asked them to be our escorts to Diagon Alley tomorrow. He gave me the list of school supplies needed for this year just earlier, so we should be all set." She said with a kind smile.

"It's nice to meet you both." Harry said politely, as the response was ingrained by now.

"You too, Harry, but just call me Tonks if you would. Don't know what my mum thought she was doing when she gave me that horrid name." Tonks said with a shudder, and Harry smiled.

"Okay Tonks." Harry said, and Kingsley spoke up as well.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Harry. I hope you won't give us too much trouble tomorrow." He said jokingly, and Harry laughed, though her heart dropped.

'Just another person who thinks I'm more trouble than I'm worth. I wonder how many that is. I really shouldn't be such a bother to people. I'm a bother to Hermione because she always has to help me with homework, I'm a bother to Ron because he always has to explain wizarding things that I should already know to me, I'm a bother to the Weasleys because they're going through all this trouble just to help me out and hide who I am, and I was a bother to Sirius when I was just a baby, and so he decided that I wasn't worth it and went to do what he wanted instead and got arrested for it. I must have been a bother to Remus, because I didn't even know he existed until my third year. He never tried to contact me before that. He obviously didn't want me because he knew how much trouble I already was. Maybe that's why Aunt Petunia hates me so much. I'm a bother to everyone.' She thought, and she didn't notice what they said as the three made conversation around her.

She finally came out of it when she randomly remembered a muggle book she had stolen from Dudley to read, seeing as the fat oaf would never read anything unless forced to. One of the stories that was her favorite was Alice in wonderland, because Alice was able to escape to a strange place full of odd creatures and people, and adventure too. She could be Alice. The magical world could be her Wonderland. After all, it was full of such wonders, and odd people and creatures too. She wondered why she had only now remembered this instead of when she had first seen all this, and chalked it up to just not thinking about it at the time. She decided then that she would be Alice. Alice Weasley. Finally Harry spoke up in a lull in the conversation.

"Mrs. Weasley, I was actually wondering if I could talk to you about my fake name?" She asked politely, and Molly nodded with a smile.

"What are your thoughts on it, dear?" She asked kindly, and Harry hoped she wasn't being more trouble because she wanted another name.

"I was wondering if I could change it? I mean, Lillian is a lovely name, but someone might connect it back to Harry Potter with how much I look like my mum, and I was thinking that maybe we could change it?" she asked, and Molly nodded.

"Did you have another name in mind, dear?" she asked, and Harry nodded.

"Alice." She said, and smiled.

"How lovely. Alice it is, then. We will start calling you that in public tomorrow." She said, and Harry spoke up again, remembering that she wanted to ask about magical optometrists.

"Is there anyone in Diagon Alley who sells magical contacts or something? The color of my eyes is another Harry Potter connection, so I was thinking about either colored contacts, or maybe learning a spell to temporarily change the color." She said, and groaned internally.

'Oh, now I know I've been too much trouble. We're only supposed to be shopping for school supplies tomorrow. She's going to say I can't go because it's too much trouble.' Harry fretted silently, and she tensed when Molly opened her mouth to speak.

"Yes, I think there was a shop run by a muggleborn down at the end of the Alley near Gringotts. I can't remember the dear's name, but from what I've heard he's very good, and he's got an apprentice that helps in the shop. He was the one who invented magical contact lenses, and therefore he owns the monopoly on the idea. No one else can make or sell them legally, and none of the illegal ones can match up to his standards, so not many buy them anyway. As for the spell, I don't think I've heard of any, dear. You might have to go with the contacts." She said, and Harry nodded her thanks. She was hesitant to ask anymore, but she really wanted to go there.

"Can we go there tomorrow? After school shopping is done, of course." Harry hastened to add, trying to be as little bother as possible.

"If these two don't mind, then sure." Molly said with a smile, and the two agreed to the side trip. Harry smiled.

"Thank you. I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight Mrs. Weasley, Ms. Tonks, Mr. Shacklebolt." Harry said, and after they had wished her a goodnight as well, she left to go to bed. She started to get excited about tomorrow as well. She couldn't wait to see what options and charms the magical contacts would have.

End Ch.


End file.
